Step by Step
by Drel Murn
Summary: Step by step the world changes. The spirits wanted connection? They got it!
1. Endure

It began, as many things do, with a dream.

I open my eyes to a sea of nothingness, and I know that I am in a dream. There's an odd feeling bubbling beneath my skin, the feeling that I should be frightened because there is _nothing_ around me, but all that comes is the sensation of being half asleep, half awake, with the lassitude that comes with.

It isn't until I'm slipping more towards being awake that I realize there is something clenched in my arms, but I'm blinking at Nuan shaking me before I can look down.

"Lu Ten, your cousin has arrived," he says, and I blink at him before my eyes widen and I scramble to my feet, trying to ignore the odd sense of something _off_ , my arms empty.

"How is she? Is the baby alright?"

"They're both fine," Nuan assures me with a smile. "Though the Fire Sages have been called to attend him."

 _The Fire Sages were called -_

I fly off the wall and bolt into my aunt's room. In many ways, she is the mother I never had, taking care of me ever since she first came to the palace. Ursa looks up as I rush in, and she smiles at me, tilting the nest of blankets in her arms slightly as I skid to a stop next to her bed, and I sigh in relief. The Fire Sages are supposed to protect us, but when they are called at a birth, it's not a good thing.

I sigh in relief, and reach out to touch the little cousin's face.

"What did you name him?" I ask, watching in awe as the baby scrunches his red nose and yawns, showing two rows of toothless gums,.

"His name is Zuko," Ursa says, and her voice is so full of love that I can't help but smile as I look back up at her.

I startle slightly when a hand lands on my shoulder, automatically flinching away from everyone as all firebenders are taught in order to keep others safe before I recognise Nuan's hand on my shoulder.

"You should let her rest," my servant says, and I almost protest before I look at Ursa again and see the exhaustion on her face.

My father, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, smiles at me as I notice him, and I sigh, taking one last look at me little cousin before I allow Nuan to pull me away.

I don't really think about the fact that Uncle Ozai never showed up for the birth of his first son until I'm in my room, being tucked in by Nuan.

"Nuan?"

"Yes?" my servant asks, gently smoothing my hair back.

"Was Uncle Ozai there earlier?"

I can hear Nuan's breath hitch at the question before he shakes his head slightly, the movement barely discernable in the darkness. "Go to sleep my lord."

* * *

It's been a year since little Zuko was born, and night after night, I have what originally seemed to be the same dream again and again, knowing in my heart that I am in a dream, that I should be frightened out of my wits, and yet always comforted by the solid weight in my arms, and held in place

It was a month before I managed to gather the strength to fight the sleepiness off, and when I did, I found a pair of bright blue eyes - water tribe blue like my cousin's should have been when he first opened them instead of the forbidden dragon gold - staring at him out of a child's face. The child babbles curiously, making a sound for the first time I'm aware, and I fall as in love with his as I am with my baby cousin.

The dream lasted slightly longer that time, and each time I managed to fight off more of the drowsiness, it lasted longer, and each day the child grew slightly, just like Zuko.

He's started actually trying to mimic me as I talked to him at some point, opening his mouth and making adorable little ama noises.

I never tell anyone about my dreams, especially after I notice that his eyes never change from that same clear ocean blue they had been on the day I met him.

The nothingness I was aware of when I first started dreaming gradually gives way to the strange juxtaposition of volcanos, lakes, and glaciers.

And at some point, he starts moving, first just crawling around like Zuko, but eventually I fall asleep one night and wake up to see him standing on the other side of the small clearing that we've stayed in, taking wobbly steps towards me. I watch him with wide eyes from a moment before he notices me and gives me a bright smile that contrasts sharply against skin I had never realised was so dark before he promptly falls over onto his rear and lets out a wail.

I stifle a laugh and and quickly go over to him and quickly check to make sure that he's alright, and hold him quietly until he stops sniffling in my arms.

The night after that happens, I'm carrying him around and talking to him about everything and nothing when I hear something I wasn't expecting.

"-and Aunt Ursa's just waiting for Zuko to try walking or talking -"

"Lulu."

I stop mid sentence and look down at the child cradled in my arms.

"Did you say something?" I ask, like Aunt Ursa had told me to do with Zuko if he ever said something that sounded like it had meaning. The child's face scrunches up.

"Lulu."

I laugh and shift the child's position slightly so that I can hug him. "You did! You said my name! Oh! Say my name again."

The child looks delighted by my reaction, and he repeats my name over and over. I start point out things in the surrounds after that, and I notice them becoming more and more realistic, animals starting to rustle the trees and grass as we walk, birds flying overhead, and calling to each other.

* * *

Another year passes, then two then three, the little Water Tribe boy growing up and learning everything I can teach him without making him bored while we're in the dreams. Alongside teaching him a Fire Nation accent and High court, I teach him everything I can think of.

At some point while he's young, he comes to me, looking like he's had a revelation, and points to himself. "Sokka."

I blink, blanking entirely on what he's trying to tell me for a moment before he points at me. "Lulu."

Then he points at himself. "Sokka."

Understanding comes to me in a flash, and I find myself unsure of what to says because in the two years I had known him at the time, I never thought to give him a name.

"Sokka?" I ask, carefully pronouncing the unfamiliar syllables, and the child before me nods. I smile at him and repeat his name. "Sokka. Hello."

Now, five years after my little cousin's birth is the first time my grandfather allows me into the battle room, and I listen in disgust as the generals _casually_ discuss sending out our _newest troops_ on _suicide missions_. It is only my father's hand clenching down on my knee whenever I think of speaking up that keeps me from it.

There are our people, people we have been given to love and protect, and even more so because this is the military, which holds those who signed their lives away in the hopes that we would be good commanders and keep them alive. I know the army promotes on merit - or at least it is supposed to - but these are the best strategists we have?

The very thought of _letting_ my people die makes me nauseous, but purposefully killing them? It is only my years of training as a firebender that keep the damage limited to the fabric of my pants clenched in my fists. I have to make myself remember that some people don't have the same instinct for protection like I do - the instinct to protect every person I claim as my own because that is my duty, that is my _honor_. I have to remind myself that for them, it is different. For them, their instincts drive them to protect _us_ , to fulfil our needs.

I want to cry in relief when, after all of the generals have laid out their plans, grandfather dismisses all of the ones that involve suicide missions.

But that night when I dream, I can't face Sokka. I run away from him as soon as I wake up, and I dance in a field as far from the center of the dreamscape as is possible. And while at first it's only the purely practical for only fighting moves that my instructors are teaching me, sharp and full of hanger, it becomes something that is truly a dance, smooth, flowing dance that stains the fire with colors I've only heard of, beautiful greens and blues that remind me of life.

I don't know where the moves come from, but in the end, I'm lying on the ground, curled up as tears run down my face. I'd thrown up several times, just thinking of what the generals suggested, and now I don't really feel anything except numb.

And that is how Sokka finds me that night, curled up and empty of emotion. He manages to make me sit up, and eventually stand, chattering away in the way children do sometimes, and I look at his face and feel guilty because he is Water Tribe, and I know that my people have and will continue to destroy his people, ruthlessly tearing them apart in their quest for domination.

And that's when I start making plans. When I wake up, I take out a brush and a piece of paper, and sit down at my desk, not even bothering to change out of my night clothes. Nuan come sleepily out of the chamber off of mine in order to wake me up long after I'd started, only to find me cursing as I try to get the shape of Sokka's nose right, a pile of discarded papers beside me.

"Lu Ten?" he asks warily, and it makes my heart ache to know that my only friend fears me, that this is the only place that he dares call me by name. "What are you doing? Is that someone from the Water Tribe?"

I turn and blink at him, rubbing a hand over my eyes and unheeding of the ink that now stains my face. "Yes, but I can get his face right, no matter how hard I try."

Nuan blinks at me, then sighs and comes closer. "Why are you trying to paint this boy?"

"He's important," I murmur, but I feel slightly guilty as I look as the pile of used paper to my right. "I - I can't tell you why. But he's important."

Nuan sighs slightly. "Can I help?"

"Can you draw?"

"I'd like to think you already know the answer to that," Nuan says, and I blush slightly as I remember that classes we took in drawing years ago because a prince must be trained in the fine arts, and his servant must know him. To be honest, I drew slightly worse that I was truly able to for a long time in that class because I knew that Nuan liked it. He'd been so much better than me in the end, so I considered it a job well done.

"Here," I say, standing and moving to the side so that Nuan can sit. "I've actually been able to get most of it, but not all of the same paper."

I ruffle through my discard papers, and pull out a couple where I'd managed to get some feature right. "He's got this hair, this nose, this mouth, this chin, this neck, these eyes, these ears, and this neck."

"Alright," Nuan slight, rubbing the sleep out of his eves again. "Do you know his name?"

I pause for a moment, considering because names are important. Then I pause as an idea comes to me. "Call him Rakesh."

It's not a name entirely out of place, the general sound of it is very much of Fire, but the meaning hints as something deeper. Lord of the full-moon day, the day most powerful for waterbenders.

Nuan's lips curl slightly, no doubt catching the meaning before he turns back to the desk. "So which part has a good head shape?"

Later, he doesn't say anything when I have him open an account for Rakesh, and begin to put my allowance there.

* * *

My little cousin has grown as well, but his father likes him even less with each passing minute, disappointed that his son, the line of Sozin, has not produced a firebending heir. His attentions are focused ever more on Zuko's little sister Azula, while Zuko is sent on increasingly long says with Piandao.

There is even talk, seemingly only gossip that he will be fostered out to him, and my heart can't help but break every time I see the light die slowly in Zuko's eyes every time he comes back. He's always so happy at first, until he hears the first whisper of gossip, and his eyes go dead. I understand the reasoning - without the ability to protect himself, Zuko has gained numerous scars hidden under the extravagant robes of his station. It would make more sense for him to go to Piandao and learn to fulfil some other valuable role for the Fire Lord.

Grandfather says nothing, watching Zuko with hooded eyes at meals, and despite the reasoning, I always sigh in relief every time Zuko comes back.

* * *

On my twentieth birthday, Sokka comes to me enthusiastically with a shadowy imitation of a person following behind him, clinging to the back of his shirt.

"Lulu Ten! Lulu Ten! Look what I found! This is Tonrar!"

"That's not exactly a nice name," I say, watching the shadows warily. The being I can see is see through, and he shivers in the bright light of the dreamscape. "He looks like the light hurts him, why don't we go to the shade."

Sokka looks horrified by my comment, and quickly hurries into the shade of the trees. While we're there, waiting for Tonrar to stop shaking, Sokka tells me how he found Tonrar as I eye the spirit. Once he's at the end of his tale, I ask him to go pick some apnanas for the two of us, and he obliges happily.

"So, Tonrar," I say, turning to face the shadow person, and it hisses at me, unrestrained without Sokka here. "I do hope you understand exactly what you're getting into. If you harm Sokka in any way . . ."

I flick my fingers and let flame swirl around them, dance in a style utterly unlike that of modern firebending. The shadow eyes the flames then nods. Then it glares at me and makes a motion I've seen before, meant to simulate a knife running across the throat.

A couple of weeks later, Sokka comes back with a second spirit, this one a bright person made of a strange blue-white light that has a personality almost opposite to that of the shadow being's. Sokka lets me name it, and I do so with a lump in my throat. Iqniq, fire from comets and meteors.

* * *

On my twenty first birthday, Zuko bends for the first time, he's eight, and the pair of us are alone when he does so. It doesn't register with me when it happens, a flicker of flames as he sighs, resigned to his fate. But I'm a bender, and I can't mistake what I feel. He's eight, and there are actual arrangements now to foster him out.

The both of us freeze, then I jump towards him and hug him, laughing in relief. I coax him through the exercises that everyone is taught - just in case. I frown slightly as I watch him, because he acts slightly off. He never needs any correction after I first lead him through the exercises, because he adjusts himself back every time I'm about to call out a correction he shifts back to the correct form, his lips moving as if arguing with himself.

In, out, he breathes, and he moves through the forms slowly, but with more grace in his way than the instructors with their supposedly perfect forms ever had. It reminds me of the dance I had done in the dreamscape, no move ending, everything flowing like fire.

Nuan and Zuko's servant Vasuman are both there, but it's easy enough to know that they will not tell anyone before we reveal the secret ourselves. Honor urges confession, but we are their to protect, no matter who our loyalty is to.

He's able to consistently bend a plume of fire above his hand now, his breathing the only thing that keeps it alight, and at dinner when conversation pauses and politely turns to Zuko, he doesn't shyly pass his turn to his sister as he has every time before. Instead, he holds his hand out, palm up, and _breathes_ -

The courtiers mutter because of course the royal family can't be alone for dinner, and who's heard of a child starting to bend only this late? Aunt Ursa ignores the whispers and leans sideways to give her son a warm hug. I shiver slightly as the hidden rage I can see in Uncle Ozai's eyes, and finally I turn my eyes to Grandfather. He is watching Zuko with hooded eyes like always, and I wonder if perhaps he knows something I don't.

* * *

At twenty one, I am trusted to finally begin to suggest plans in the war room, and my grandfather insists that I must give at least one plan every meeting. And every meeting for me is all of the meetings, one very day as more communications are brought in by messenger hawks.

I concentrate more and more on my lessons in strategy, and at night, when I'm not dancing myself into exhaustion, I'm teaching Sokka everything I can think of on how to act like he is from the Fire Nation. At some point, I show Zuko the pictures that Nuan draws from my multitude, and explain to him that this is someone special to me, that if he ever sees him, he must not hurt him.

I spend all of my free time with Zuko, and when my father comes home, his eyes distant with things that no man should see, he spends time with us and teaches us about the bending styles he's fought against.

I can feel Nuan and Vasuman's attention whenever my father teaches us, and when he is gone, I invite them to come and learn as well so that Zuko and I have more opponents than ourselves.

It feels like I can't stop moving, even at night, and people notice, telling me with too bright smiles that my time to be a hero, to go to war will come. I smile back and laugh, pretending that is the reason, and no the foreboding and ever growing feeling that my death is coming.

A month after I show him the picture of Sokka, Zuko shows me a picture of an old man. I can see Vasuman's help in the graceful lines, and I examine the picture as Zuko tells me shyly that this is the person he sees at night. "Like your Rakesh, right?"

I nod slightly, examining the features of the man. The picture is an odd one because I can see the delicacy of Fire Nation features under his wrinkled skin, but his hair and clothes are that of the Northern Water Tribe. I know this because I'd studied Water Tribe clothing while I tried to figure out where Sokka was.

"Only, I hear him out of my dreams as well," Zuko says whispering that snippet of information under his breath, like he hopes I won't hear it.

I blink at him, then rub a hand over my hair. "Alright. So what do you want to practice now."

* * *

Twenty two feels like a betrayal of all that I am, all that I hold dear, as I am sent out in the field in order to gain more experience.

At twenty two, I am expected to not only plan, but to fight and kill. I can taste nothing but bitterness as I come up with plan after plan in attempts to save everyone I can, and my troops love me for it. We put on show of power, and each night, after teaching Sokka whatever I can think of to help him, I curl up and cry.

And it's at twenty two that Sokka's Tribe is attacked by the Fire Nation for the first time in his life. The tribes around him have been attacked, but his tribe, the wolves, hasn't been attacked since before he was born, and his mother is taken, accused of being a waterbender in order to protect her daughter, the actual waterbender.

The first night, after yelling at me, Sokka runs away and curls up sobbing. Tonrar and Iqniq follow him, trying to comfort him, but their insubstantial forms just pass through him.

The second night is after my first time out in the field, and the neither of us are really willing to talk. And the day after we sit back to back, and Sokka tells me about his mother. Before I wake up, he tells me that his father has decided that his Tribe will leave and go to war with the Fire Nation.

After that, I lean his customs from him, what different colors mean, the words they use that I've never heard of. He takes me to the glaciers and teaches me about the different types of snow. I learn how to be a Water Tribesman in my dreams, and kill people in my waking hours. My pillow it stiff from my tears, and Nuan draws away from me more and more as we wage war.

* * *

I'm still twenty two when set siege to Ba Sing Se, but I turn twenty three not long after. The year is long and hard, and I lose more men in half the year than I did the previous year. The feeling that I'm running out of time grows ever stronger and stronger as the twenty fourth birthday grows closer, and I don't bother to tell anyone when I wake up one day to find a certain stillness.

I sit at the portable desk in my tent calmly and write a letter to Nuan. We've grown apart in the years I've been on campaign, but I still trust him with my life every day. I tuck the letter under my pillow and pull my armour on.

We fight the earthbenders against their Great Wall, and they frantically hold us off, but we didn't get this far on luck, and slowly but surely we push them back. Fire is burning around me, boulders flying like that was what they were meant to do, and thunder rolls over the earth suddenly. I glance up, and find myself gaping as the Great Wall of Ba Sing Se falls on my army, falls on me, and there is nowhere to run.

"No!" I hear someone exclaim, and feet pound the soil behind me, Nuan skidding to a halt in front of me, his feet planted in a strangely familiar way that takes me only a moment to identify as one of the stances that my father taught me and Zuko, and I leap forward towards him, trying to cover him because he isn't a bender, he can't protect us, but maybe I can protect him - He moves decisively, his face deceptively calm as the rocks fall straight towards his head.

I stare at him in disbelief as the rocks fall to either side of us, his recent distance becoming clear. The oldest Fire Nation colonies have the highest rate of death, and it's because _they are as much Fire Nation as the are the Earth they have lived on._ But before I can say anything, there's a jolt I blink then look down to see the tip of a long knife in the center of my chest. Then suddenly pain strikes me, and I crumple to my knees.

There's a roaring in my ears like I'm alone on the beach as shadow passes over me. I try to breath and my vision goes gray. I blink, and see Nuan leaning over me with tears on his cheeks. I reach up, the movement painful, then nothing.

* * *

"-Ten. Lu Ten. Lu Ten! Lu Ten!"

I gasp, eyes flying open to see Sokka's face, a concerned look on his face. I gasp, my breath shuddering in my throat, then I throw my arms around his shoulders and sob.

* * *

 _Alright, so I hope you like this! I don't own Avatar: TLA. There should be more at some point._


	2. Braver Than You Believe

My father always told me that, while my sister was born lucky, I was lucky to be born. I think that

he was trying to make me grateful to him or something, but all it ever did was make me set myself more firmly in my beliefs and move on.

My first memory is my father telling me that very sentence with a disappointed look on his face. I think that was the first time it happened because I remember my eyes welling with tears and the feel of Kuzon's insubstantial hands on my shoulders and his voice in my ear as he tells me to stand proud because if I was lucky to be born, then I need to honor that luck.

Before I turned five, I spent my days running free in the gardens, bringing back turtle ducks to my mother and Kuzon, playing with my oldest cousin Lu Tun, and generally just doing what I want to. There are a couple of times that I'm sent off to Master Piandao, but that's just standard practice, finding me a prospective home, just in case I don't turn out to be a firebender. To be honest, I think that swords are just as cool as bending, if not more so because of - because of reasons!

Piandao doesn't teach me much then either, letting me borrow a dull but weighted wooden sword and letting me exhaust myself. Of course Kuzon doesn't let me just play, but after he taught me, he let me fight him.

Once I'm five though, that changes. Once I turn five without so much as a hint that I might be a firebender, people start to whisper that I'm going to be fostered off to Piandao.

I want to growl at them, but Kuzon taught me that it was actually quite possible, and the only reason it hasn't happened yet is likely because of my position as fourth in line for them throne. He warns me that if I don't show some sign of firebending soon though, the rumors will become reality.

I know the underlying reasoning, but when I think of how it would mean essentially losing my family, I almost don't care.I don't care about the numerous scared that are hidden beneath my robes, I don't care that I can't have my shirt off on the beaches like a normal child because of the numerous scars that are scatter over my torso. I don't care how dangerous it is to live with a firebender when I myself am not one. I spare a brief moment of jealousy for my little sister, a prodigy who was bending by her second birthday.

My time with Piandao changes as well, but this change is more of a positive one, in that he's actually teaching me to fight. Instead of the jian that Kuzon had been patiently teaching me how to use, he teaches me how to fight with a dao. I love my time with him, love the way he doesn't treat me like a god or like nothing, and my happiness always buoys me until my first dinner at home, where I hear the rumors once again, hear the _worthless_ , hear the _cursed_ , hear the _why has he not been fostered out yet?_.

* * *

There's also the new oddity that I find myself wondering over. Vasuman was presented to me on the day of my fifth birthday by Kohaku, the man who has been my servant for as long as I can remember as my new personal servant. He comes with me when I visit Piandao, not that Piandao allows him to do anything for me, and tries to anticipate my needs when I'm at home.

He doesn't say anything about me being fostered out, and that's something I'm glad for as I gradually get to know him. Sometimes, when I'm practicing the meditation exercises the one of my tutors had given me, I can feel his eyes on me, evaluating me and judging if I am worth the effort.

When I ask Kuzon his opinion, he hums slightly, a smile on his lips. "He's a very sharp young man, of that I have no doubt. So long as he thinks you are worthy, he will follow you to the ends of the earth and back."

There's an odd longing in Kuzon's voice that sends shivers down my spine before Kuzon shakes his head and smiles warmly at me.

* * *

I spend what time I am allowed free as far away from the court as aI can get and still be within the palace. Vasuman doesn't comment on my tendencies to wander to the furthest corners of the gardens and lie down, simply bringing scrolls and reading to himself. Kuzon settles himself next to me, always in one of the forms much younger than the ages he looks most of the times, and in these quiet moments, he tells me stories of his life, both before the Air Temple Massacre, and after, when he had fled to the Northern Water Tribes.

He talks wistfully about one Monk he had met and been close friends with, and about his regret that he didn't manage to save anyone.

My, mother, my cousin, and my cousin's servants are the only ones to travel out to my corner of the gardens, and I find myself grateful that they come to me, and let me avoid the hallways and courtiers with their lies and their false sympathy like nectar-bee honey - sweet, and poison enough to kill you with a taste.

My mother always sits on the stone bench, but Lu Ten sprawls on the ground next to me, lazily waving a hand at Nuan to tell him that he's free to do as he wishes before he babbles on about his day, complaining and complimenting in the same breath before moving onto the next subject in a continuous flow.

* * *

Despite her young age, it becomes more and more clear as I grow older that my little sister favors her father, not my mother. For all that I love her, I'm also frightened of her and for her. She's the one that gave me most of my scars, and that doesn't stop are we grow older.

I brought my mother turtle ducks when I was young. Azula brings my father their corpses, feathers burnt and shells charred slightly.

And she has taken the court's mutterings to heart, taunting me when she sees me in the hallways.

"Useless Zuzu. If only you could firebend."

Fire flickers in the palm of her hand with those words, and her smirk is very telling as she motions for her friends to follow her. She knows that will sting too, because I have not had the opportunity to make friends, to go to school. Not when it becomes ever more likely that I will be removed.

* * *

I'm eight, and the arrangement are almost finalised for my fostering under Piandao. The only thing left is for my to return to his care. I'm sitting with my cousin, our servants, and Kuzon in my corner of the garden when I left out sight, my breathing exercises done, and a flame ( _it's short, pathetic and cold in comparison to what I've seen others bend, but it's a flame!_ ) comes out with my breath, leaving all of us frozen and staring.

Then suddenly there are are two sets of arms around me, one solid and warm, the other insubstantial, but just as welcoming.

"You did it!" Lu Ten cries, and I can't help it when the first giggle slips out, then the second, but by the third I'm no longer trying to keep my laughter in as tears slide down my face.

"You did it," Kuzon murmurs in my ear, and nod against Lu Ten's chest because _I did it_.

Lu Ten guides me through the meditation I have memorised, making slight correction to my stance that Kuzon with him memory dulled my the years hadn't been able to make. Then I do it again, this time Kuzon reminding me what to fix with Lu Ten's corrections in mind. Then again, and again, fire coming to me more and more.

The sharp movements still feel unnatural, and the most I get out of it are little poofs of flames only about as long as my forearm, but this is more than I've ever gotten before, and I can't help but feel elated.

The only thing that feels even remotely the way it should be is the simplest in theory, and the hardest in practice; holding a ball of fire over my palm. This I understand. This makes sense in a way that nothing in my life except Kuzon has.

I turn slightly so that I can see Vasuman sitting on the ground next to Nuan, and he looks up, as if he had felt my gaze. I tilt my palm slightly in his direction, the fire moving with my hand. His eyes flicker to the fire, and he smiles, the emotion odd on his face, and nods

At dinner, I want to shift in my seat as I wait for the flow of conversation to turn to me and any news that I might have. My time is delayed slightly, but soon enough my turn comes, and I put my hand above my plate. I take a breath, encouraged by Kuzon's ghostly hand on my shoulder, then breathe _out-_

* * *

Piandao is informed of the change in plans, and I find myself sad that I will not be seeing him as a teacher again. Living far away from the court had been nice and given me a rest from the constant gossip, and Piandao himself had been a fair, if insistent teacher. I am sent off to school for the first time in my life, and a different set of tutors are assigned to me now that I no longer require the full set, and do require a firebending teacher.

I'm excited to go to school, and ready to make more friends than my servant and cousin, but a day of it is quick to dispel my illusions. School is long and boring, going at a much slower pace than my tutors went at in order to make sure that the whole class could keep pace.

As for friends, while some of the no doubt would be willing, it is far too easy for their other friends to sweep them away before they have the chance to offer. I'm glad for Kuzon, because I'm sure that if it wasn't for him, I would have searched for my sister and her friends during the small break we are afforded just for something to do since my second choice of entertainment, a scroll, is not allowed in the yard.

* * *

I've been to Ember Island before, but after I turned five without bending, my father refused to take me there - to reward me for being 'defective' - and my mother refused to leave without me, so none of us have been in three years. That fight is the only fight I can remember where my parents actually sounded like they were fighting, yelling at each other and throwing things, and with the memory of that, it feels odd to step on the sand of the island and once again look at our house.

It feels odd to leave Vasuman, who has been a constant presence by my side since I was five, behind.

Kuzon trails behind me, commenting on the slight disrepair and the dust that had settled in our absence. As if she'd heard him, my mother looks around and declares, "Well, we'll need to spend some time fixing this place up!"

Ozai grunts, glaring at the open front room, and Azula simply laughs. "You expect me to clean? As if!"

My mother's smile falters, falling into the sad look I've seen on her face more and more recently as Azula and my father wander further into the house.

"Don't worry," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "We'll be able to clean it up well."

Mother smiles down at me, her face still carrying a hint of the sadness that she had been feeling. "Thank you, Zuko. I just wish that your father and your sister were more willing to help."

I smile as her, then let go and pick up my bags. "I'll be right back, I'm just going to put my bags away."

But Ozai and Azula never do take an interest in our activities, the divide in our family simply growing more and more clear over the summer. Mother takes me to see the Ember Island Players every night, and while after around a week, it becomes clear that there are only seven different performances right now. It doesn't matter to my mother, who loves watching them, and I don't really mind watching them to spend time with her.

Kuzon comments and sheer ridiculousness of their plays. "I mean, airbending looks nothing like that, to say nothing of their entirely inaccurate portrayal of waterbending and earthbending, _which are still around for them to observe_."

At the end of the summer, Azula and Ozai walk out of the house without looking back, but Mother lingers.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she sighs, picking up her bags and turning away. "I just thought that . . . we should have been happy."

* * *

I turn nine during a break in the war, one where Uncle Iroh can come home for a week at a time now as the troops concentrate on pacifying the countryside that they've conquered now, and setting up rulers to replace the local rulers that they've killed or imprisoned. As they do this, people who have been waiting for the new colonies go to the colonies that have already been pacified and families are directed one by one to villages that they can set themselves up in.

Lu Ten grows ever more distracted as the Fire Lord mandates that he provide plans in the war room now, instead of simply listening. Whenever he's free of his tutors, whenever he's free of war meetings, he comes and joins me in my little corner. He doesn't really have any friends other than me and Nuan, but I hadn't really seen that before. Now he's stressed and constantly trying to think of better solutions to keep our people alive.

When Uncle Iroh comes home, he teaches us about the bending styles he's fought against, but when we're alone, we just lie there and talk.

At some point, he tells me about his dreams of a child my age, and he even asks Nuan to get out a scroll with a drawing they had worked together to make.

Kuzon looks over my shoulder as he shows it to me, and remarks that whatever Lu Ten's dreams were, he was at least drawing what people of the Water Tribes looked like better than my text books.

"In fact, this kid looks like Kanna," Kuzon mutters, reaching forward and tracing the shape of the boy's eye.

Lu Ten's face is solemn as he regards the scroll. "This is Rakesh. I'm not sure that he's real, and if you ever see him, he probably won't be calling himself Rakesh, but . . . he's important to me."

I glance between Lu Ten and the scroll for a moment before I lean into his side. "I'll help him if I meet him."

* * *

It takes me a month, even with Vasuman's surprisingly good help, to draw Kuzon.

"This is who I see at night," I explain to him, feeling slightly awkward. "Like your Rakesh, right?"

Lu Ten nods silently, his eyes moving over the parchment. "Only I hear him out of my dreams as well."

Kuzon looks slightly exasperated by the way I whisper that second piece of information, but all Lu Ten does is blink at me, then ask what I want to do next.

* * *

Two days after he turns twenty two, Lu Ten is sent off to fight in the war with his father. My taunts me about it whenever she sees me. _So desperate to get away from you that he'll fight a war. How's that for friendship._

I don't reply, digging my fingernails into my palms or consciously practicing the bending exercises, but I don't reply. I learned not to after the first time. Her friends, Mai (a governor's daughter from a long line of ninja women,) and Ty Lee (a highly trained spy and assassin along with her six sisters, all from a line that mysteriously gained many foster children 93 years ago) follow behind her. I don't look for smiles.

I take the opportunity to work on all of the different styles of fighting that I have learned so far, blending them, and adding everything Kuzon can teach me. The firebending styles are useless - or worse - to me, but even though I can produce more flame simply by breathing, and direct it better with a flick of my wrist, there is only one style of firebending as far as the Fire Nation is concerned.

I incorporate everything that actually suits me into a different set of moves, pulling from everything Kuzon could teach me about Water Tribe fighting, bending and nonbending, as well as what he could remember of airbending, pulling from the earthbending that Uncle Iroh taught me, and what few Fire Nation moves that work for me.

Lu Ten's letters come every couple of weeks, and they're a bright point in my days when they happen. I'm in the odd position of being in line to inherit the throne before my sister, but being less well known than her, and there's a pressure for me to get friends or become more social so that the people have some idea what their prince is like.

My tenth birthday is just as quiet as my other birthdays, if not moreso for the lack of Lu Ten. I am excused from my duties for the day I'm almost at a loss for what to do with the sudden free time. "What do you know about the spirits?"

"What?" I ask Vasuman, pulling my fingers from fiddling with a ribbon attached to my robes..

"The spirits?" Vasuman repeats, running the comb through my hair again. "What do you know about them?"

"Nothing really," I admit after a moment, my fingers drifting to my robes to play with the ribbon again. "The most I know about them is that they are there, and that Kuzon and Agni are both spirits."

"Kuzon and Agni?" Vasuman asks, but the question is rhetorical. "Of course that's all you'd know. After what your people have done that would only make sense.

"Answer me this, Zuko. What do you truly think of the current situation? Your opinion and not that of the Fire Nation."

"I . . ." I hesitate, instinctively seeking out Kuzon's eye in the mirror. Kuzon nods, and I close my eyes. "We're ruining the world. Balance . . . balance is important, and we shattered that almost a century ago. What we're doing now seems to be more of the same, making it worse. I don't really understand the point. All I can see coming from our "victories" are dead bodies and sorrow."

Vasuman lingers on that as I open my eyes, a smile playing across his face. "If that is what you think, that the situation is better than I thought."

"It is?" I ask, startled as Vasuman sets the comb aside.

"Yes. So, how would you like to learn about spirits?"

* * *

My head is spinning with facts and myths and types of spirits by the time Lu Ten's twenty third birthday arrives, and with it, the news that the army has reached Ba Sing Se and began to surround it in order to cut it off from outside resources.

Lu Ten keeps sending me private letters, and while they don't truly grow shorter, the actual content grows to be less and less. It's easy enough to read between the lines and see that Lu Ten doesn't like the war, but that has always been clear. Sometimes Lu Ten sends me flowers that he's found as well, protected by the rolled paper of the scrolls and only slightly wilted by the two day journey.

I try to give him the impression that I'm not doing too badly - only telling him about my growing friendship with Vasuman, about the legends and myths I'm learning, and about how far I've advanced, but I mention so little about my life that I'm sure he can tell that I'm not as happy as I try to portray myself.

My eleventh birthday comes and goes with a day off from my duties once again, and this time I spend it in the garden, practicing the jumble of forms that work best for me and talking to Vasuman about the spirits. I receive a scroll with many labeled pictures of spirits that are common in the Earth Kingdoms from Lu Ten two days late, a note explaining that he'd bought it off of a guru.

I remember to send Kuzon's birthday present two days early. It's a little circle of wood that I'd carved from a tree that fell in a the last great storm, little symbols for protection carved all over.

Lu Ten sends me a note thanking me for it. The next day, a different hawk approaches me, and circles over my head until I offer my arm for it to settle on. Vasuman watches with sharp eyes, but he only shrugs when I glance at him with a question in my eyes. He doesn't know why it came to me and not him.

I gently take the hawk's note out of the scroll container, and gently give the hawk a boost back into the air.

I look over the scroll for a moment, noting Lu Ten's seal and wondering what could have happened so soon that he would send me a note. Then I break the seal and unroll the paper.

* * *

I bite my cheek as I listen to my father talk to the Fire Lord, trying to convince im that after Uncle Iroh's abandonment of the siege on Ba Sing Se, Ozai would be the better choice for Fire Lord.

He argues that because of Lu Ten's death, Uncle Iroh is no longer fit to be heir because there is no one to inherit the throne after him.

Blood fills my mouth as I finally bite through the skin of my cheek, and Kuzon's hands tighten on my shoulders, keeping me in place and listening. Lu Ten died - my cousin _died_ \- and all my father sees it as is an opportunity. Finally, the Fire Lord opens his eyes.

"How dare you. My own son. How dare you try to take your brother's place?" The Fire Lord's voice echos in the empty hall, the words barely audible over the crackling of the flames. "If that is how you feel now, then you should know the pain of losing your own child."

I can feel the blood draining from my face at those words, and Kuzon's fingers are digging into my skin, no longer insubstantial. I glance she is just as pale as I am. I hadn't felt like I should be here from the beginning, but sitting here in the seiza while my grandfather talks to my father about killing me and my sister. I break Kuzon's grip on my shoulders and run, run away. I collapse to the ground when I finally reach my corner of the garden, and I just lay there, gasping.

"He wasn't talking about killing you," Kuzon says, running and insubstantial hand down my back as I sob. "Zuko, you are one of his favorites - or at the very least he likes you more than he likes your father. At the most, he would have fostered you out to Iroh."

"Well, that was a very ominous way of saying that," I reply, not convinced as I let him push me up into a sitting position. "He said 'know the pain of losing your own child'. That's not something you say when you want to foster someone out."

"Zuko." I look up, and blink to see Vasuman standing in the gap between hedges.

"Hello," I reply weakly. "Did you stay? What did he actually say?"

"I stayed," Vasuman says gently, sitting down beside me. "The Fire Lord didn't have much of a chance to say anything, your father swept out of the room before he had a chance to say any more."

He pauses, examining me. "You bit your cheek."

"My father is willing to kill me," I reply bitterly, but I let him examine my mouth and press a piece of linen-cotton against the wound.

* * *

"Zuko. Zuko."

I shift towards the light and sigh happily. "Zuko, wake up. Zuko!"

"Huh?" I ask blearily. The light slowly draws me into a half awake, half asleep state before warm hands shake me again.

"Zuko!"

"Mom?" I ask, recognizing my mother's silhouette. "What is it? It's the middle of the night."

"Zuko, I love you."

"I know," I say, glancing up slightly to see Kuzon watching with an unreadable look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," my mother says, but I san smell the salt of her tears. "Just . . . Zuko, promise me something."

"Of course," I reply, confused.

"Always remember who you are. Promise me that you will always remember who you are."

"Of course," I reply.

"Thank you. I'll see you," my mother says. She draws her hood up and leaves my room. I watch her go, the light of her candle fading slowly.

"I won't be seeing her for a long time, will I?"

"I don't think so," Kuzon replies, and he comes closer to wrap me in a hug.

* * *

"Zuko! Zuko!" I turn slightly so that I can see Azula as Vasuman helps me pull on another robe. "Grandfather is dead."

"Grandfather is dead?"

"Yes! The Fire Sages are going to read his will at noon."

"Well," I sigh and start to shrug out of the robe I had been putting on. "That's a whole other set of robes."

Uncle Iroh is still gone, disappeared to Agni knows where after he ordered the retreat of the army, and my mother's appearance last night makes more sense. She's likely the only one Ozai would talk to who would be able to make a poison, the only one who would be willing to make it.

* * *

The coronation ceremony is at high noon, right after the reading of Grandfather's will. I am dressed in the finest robes I have, and I watch blankly as the hairpiece is place upon my father's head.

There is nothing left to hold me here.

Lu Ten is gone. My mother is gone. Vasuman calmly gave me a note declaring his leave of absence from the position of servant. Nuan, Lu Ten's servant went, missing the day after Lu Ten died. Uncle Iroh did much the same after ordering the army to leave Ba Sing Se. And for Kuzon it was less a matter of leaving, and more one of staying with me.

There is nothing left to hold me here.

I turn my face towards the sun above me. I can't feel it when the hairpiece touches my father's head, but that doesn't matter, it will be on when I open my eyes. I set my face towards the sun and send up a wordless prayer to Agni, asking for a safe journey. After all, there is nothing left to hold me here.

* * *

 _Alright, here's the second part. I hope you like this!_


	3. I Bled Indigo Skies:Gaoling

Perhaps it's just something my mind put together that I liked the idea of, by I'm fairly sure that my first memory if of his laugh, loud, and bubbling and higher than it is now. But if it wasn't his laugh, than I perhaps it was his arms, his legs, his warmth. I may not have known how to tell people apart with my bending while I was young, but I didn't need that if everyone was so different from the person I was trying to tell apart.

If no one else, I've always understood him. It's not like either of us have it easy.

* * *

I tilt my head slightly to listen for Samir before I stand up and reach out to touch the cherry tree. I wander around the clearing and check on all of the flowers and other plants that are the same type as ones I've found in garden. I smile slightly as I hear Samir appear, and I only have to wait a moment before he tackles me.

His fingers press in the specific pattern that means me, that means _Toph._

 _Hello, silly,_ I giggle, turning so that I can hug him and press the words into his skin. _How are you?_

 _Good!_ Samir replies, bouncing slightly as he pulls back. _Mama let me make string today._

 _Oh, yeah?_ I ask, sitting down. _How did you do?_

Samir shifts slightly, sitting down next to me and slumping as he considers my words. _My string was really lumpy, and mother said that it was weak because I was adding the new length of cord too late._

 _Don't worry,_ I encourage him, reaching out to grasp his upper arms. _Remember, that was your first time making strong. You'll get better!_

 _Yeah!_ Samir nods brightly, straightening. Then he leans forward and asks softly, _How are you?_

 _My parents are still stifling me,_ I grumble, leaning back into the tree. _I asked them to at least let me be alone when I'm in the garden, that doesn't change much, but all that happened was the grad started to walk a ways behind me. It's like they think I can't hear him! On the very loud gravel!_

 _You still going to try to run away?_ Samir asks gently.

 _Yes,_ I reply without hesitation. _I tried it the nice way, it didn't work._

 _I wish you'd wait for me to come get you,_ Samir sighs. _I know you don't need anyone really, but I'd feel so much better if you'd wait for me._

 _Yes, and I'll feel so much better if I have to wait five years before I escape my parents,_ I snort. _I'll be fine. Besides, I don't want you to - It'll hurt. You already have enough troubles at the edge of the desert. Coming to Gaoling would hurt even more._

 _You don't have to worry about that,_ Samir insists, but his shifting shows his discomfort with the idea. _I'll be fine._

 _It doesn't matter,_ I state firmly, lifting my chin stubbornly. _I'm coming to meet you!_

His reply doesn't require words, and he grasps my hand, gently squeezing it.

* * *

 _Can't you let me go?_ I groan silently as I hold myself still in the miniscule niche I'd managed to create. I can hear the guards running around on the gravel of the path ways and yelling at each other. The niche is lumpy against my back, and I try not to frown as I shift slightly to get away from a rock digging into my back.

I've been in here for a while, and while I'm still savoring the triumph of getting out of my guard's notice, I had thought that they would have stopped searching by now. I'm pretty sure that night has fallen by now from the feeling of cold air, but they're still running around the garden and searching for me.

I sigh silently, and settle myself back against the lumpy wall of the niches. My teacher is useless, I learned just about nothing from him. He's always demonstrating things in front of me, doing something then telling me to copy him and getting frustrated when all I do - all I can do is stand there. He forgets I'm blind, acts as if I can see, and doesn't let me talk at all whenever he's teaching me. Everything I've done in order to earthbend has been own my own. And, I scowl as I shift again, trying to find a spot where there isn't a rock poking into my back, what little I've managed has been pitiful.

Finally, what was probably hours after I'd managed to hide, people finally stop running around the garden. I wait a while more before I cautiously creep out of my hiding place. I carefully make my way over to the sturdy tree that grows along the garden wall and I climb it carefully, groping for the branches and the wall. I manage to get myself over the wall without too much trouble, but I'm shivering by the time I land on my feet with a thud.

I stumble slightly then start to walk carefully. I can't see anything in front of me, and for once, I don't know where everything around me is because I've never been here before. It's exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I can see why Samir wanted me to wait for him now, and my teeth start to chatter as I walk through the night.

I yelp as the next step I take is on thin air, and I trip and fall what feel to be about the same distance as I'd fallen from the top of the wall. I land on what feels like a . . . an animal? There's a loud grumbling sound, and I yelp, scrambling off of the animal and falling to the ground. I try to get out of whatever it is that I fell into, only to find myself pushed against the rock of a rough wall. I tremble as the animal moves, feeling air puff against my face and a wet nose before it -

"Oh, ew!"

I wipe the animal's spit off my face, just in time for it to lick me again.

"Alright, alright," I say, trying to push the animal's head away. It sniffs me one more time then lumbers back to where it had been sleeping before I crashed into it. I blink, then yawn. It's been awhile since I was able to relax because I had to be so still while I was hiding. It wouldn't be bad it I slept here, right?

* * *

When I wake up in the morning after a night with Samir, the animal is gone and I'm alone in the hole. I sight and stand. I knew that was too good to be true. I stumble slightly as suddenly the ground around me rumbles and gasp as I hear some of the rock moving to me right with a grinding sound. The animal from last night - it's got to be a badgermole - comes in and dumps something at my feet then licks me again.

I can't help but laugh slightly this time as the nudges my neck and tickles me. I crouch down and grab the thing that the badgermole had dropped in front of me. It's an appleorange, a bit slimy from the badgermole's spit, but still recognisable. I carefully peel a little bit of it and bite into it, smiling at the familiar taste. I stumble slightly when the badgermole nudges me and look up. "What is it?"

The badger mole nudges me again, towards the wall behind me. It makes a snorting sound and paws at the wall. I tilt my head, still not understanding. The badger mole make the shuffling sound again, then it _shifted_ \- I could feel the way it moved without any doubt that it would be stopped. And the earth moved with the badge mole, sliding to the ceiling and solidifying itself into a layer of hard rock.

Then then badgermole _shifts_ again, and the earth that it had moved to the ceiling slides down and becomes a wall again. I tremble because I know exactly what happened. I know exactly - well, not exactly, but almost - how to do that myself. I know to to move the earth so that I can walk, and I know how to -

I know where everything is. The badgermole had dropped more than just the appleorange at my feet, and I find myself crouching to pick up the lettucechoke and the eggsquash, just to check that they're really there. The badger mole nudges me again as I stand with the vegetables under one arm, and the partially eaten appleorange in my other hand.

"Alright," I say. "Alright."

And I _shift_ -

* * *

I don't know how long I was with the badgermoles before he found me - day become very subjective when you don't have something holding you to a schedule, and I never cared to ask - but I doubt that it was any amount of time less than a month because I had learned so much.

Samir's footsteps were so different - light, and drifting, only just hinting at where he was. This person's footsteps were heavy. It wasn't until he was down in the tunnels that I realised that his tunnels remind me of mine - of the badgermole's.

He pauses when he sees me alone in the tunnel. "What are you doing here?"

"I ran away," I say slowly. I hadn't talked with words really since I left.

"Would you come back with me?"

Go back? "Why?"

He huffed a laugh. "I need the money. They were beginning to lose hope, so I I thought that I might as well. I didn't expect to succeed."

He sounds tired, and lost. I consider the badgermoles who are just beyond the stone wall. They'd taken care of me and taught me how to see. But there isn't anything left to learn. They aren't as inventive as humans, and they don't have as many tricks. "Alright."

The man talks to me as we go, his hand in mine to lead me despite the dirt and the muck I can feel covering me, despite the way I know I smell, despite that fact that I don't stumble once.

Nuan. His name is Nuan, and he's from Nishiyama - one of the oldest Fire Nation colonies.

"Your family managed to stay?" I ask him.

"Stay? What are you talking about?" Nuan asks me.

"You're an earthbender, or at least from an earth family."

"I'm Fire Nation, brat."

I tilt my head and examine his footsteps silently for a couple of moments. "You walk like an earthbender. Firmly. I don't know what firebenders walk like, but you walk like an earthbender."

There's silence.

"I am one."

* * *

 _So, you went back with him?_ Samir asks, rolling thread together in an attempt to make a smooth string.

 _He's interesting. My mother offered him a job when I got back, so he'll around for a while. There wasn't really much more for me to learn from the badgermole anyways. Mostly I just needed to practice._

 _But the stifling?_

 _I can stand it._

* * *

"Brat, running away just to come over to my house isn't a good thing."

I grin at his exasperation, swinging my legs.

"You know that look doesn't work on me," Nuan says, but his voice is softer as he settles next to me.

"Always worth a try," I shrug, letting my heels knock against the wall. "How's your bending coming along?"

"It's coming along fine, like it was the last time you asked. You know, your parents are going to get suspicious if I'm the one who always finds you."

"Well, I'm so good at disguising my tracks that it's not like anyone else could find me," I say happily. "So, what do you think of that earthbender competition? Do you think I could win?"

"I think that's a good way of getting trapped as a gladiator brat. Once the producers have found someone who's good, they'll want them to keep coming back until they're defeated. And by the time you decide you want to leave, they know your style well enough to know when you're faking."

"You seem to know a lot," I state blandly.

"Thank my cousin. He was like me, and he decided to fight in the Nishiyama rumble. It was fire and earth, and everyone wore disguises, so he wasn't suspicious. He did fairly well despite - or maybe because of his lack of any formal training, so he was asked to come back."

I can hear the sadness in his voice, but he just keeps looking forward. "By the time he had enough money to make it out of the Nishiyama area and perhaps settle somewhere else, he was fairly popular. We got him out, but it was hard. I don't know where he is now because if we'd contacted him, they would have been able to find him."

"Alright." Even if I hadn't felt the way his heart beat remained steady, that was a discouraging tale. "Alright. Will you help me practice then?"

"Sure."

* * *

 _I'm not going to the Rumbles._

 _Good!_

 _Nuan talked me out of it. Told me his cousin's story. It sounded bad._

 _I told you it was a bad idea, but no, you had to go play with the big, rough earthbenders._

 _ **I'm**_ _a big, rough earthbender. I can take care of myself. Besides, he promised to help me practice._

 _You are not a big, rough earthbender, you're my sweet and precious little Toph. Ow!_

 _You were asking for it,_ _ **Granite**_ _._

 _ **Sugar.**_

 _ **Sandstone.**_

 _ **Honey.**_

* * *

"So, have you heard of that one guy the traders are talking about? The one who defended them from the Fire Nation soldiers on their way here?" Nuan asks, not even bothering to chastise me before he sits down. I grin around the boiled sweet I'd grabbed from his pantry. It's been a year since we met, and he's finally stopped trying to scold me for coming over to his house whenever I didn't feel like being at home.

"No, I have not heard about him, seeing as the only time I would hear about him is with you," I grumble. "So, what's interesting about him?"

"Well, he's wearing a spirit mask. He choose one that was appropriate, but . . ."

"You think he's actually a spirit?"

"Well, consider what spirits let people use their image for: plays, festivals, and decoration. Outside of that, they tend to be mad at people who pretend to be them," Nuan says slowly.

"True," I nod. "Well, we probably won't be seeing him if different groups have seen him. He's probably just going to say in that area."

* * *

 _Toph._

His hands flinch away halfway through my name, and I quickly reach out for him, blood sticking to my fingers as I reach for his hand. He's covered in blood. He's covered in blood. I- he's covered in blood! What do I do?

His breathing is uneven

(he always breathes evenly he's an airbender he has to breathe evenly)

as I find his hands clasped against his side. Samir convulses slightly, and I can hear him throw up

(the sound of liquid hitting the leafs beneath his back the smell of bile fills the air sharply, mixing with the copper scent of blood)

before he moans, the sound long and low. I scramble to do something, anything, but I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, _I don't know what to do-_

"-lady! Milady! Please wake up milady! It's just a dream!"

I gasp, fighting against the arms that are pulling me away from Samir.

"No! No! Don't die! You can't die! Sa-" I break into a coughing fit, my throat raw.

"Milady please!"

The words break me out of my train of thought this time, and I go limp in the maid's arms, still sobbing.

 _Why did I wake up? When he needed me, why did I wake up? Samir -_

"Milady, are you alright?" the maid asks gently, letting me crawl back onto my bed.

"Do you know how to treat a gut wound?" I ask, pulling my blanket up to cover me again.

"N-no," the maid replies, sounding startled. "Why? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Bye."

"Milady?"

"Thank you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, milady."

* * *

The morning came, as sleepless as the night before it, and I blink dry eyes against the nothingness as I listen to servants moving outside my door. Samir's hurt. I couldn't sleep. Saamir's hurt, and I couldn't sleep so I couldn't help him. My breath hitches slightly as I hold back a sob. I couldn't help him because I couldn't sleep - and what if he's dead? What if he's dead because I couldn't help him what if he's alive but he doesn't want to talk to me see me communicate ever again because I couldn't help him what if he's alive this might happen again if he's alive it might happen again and what if I can't help him then I need -

The maid comes in, gets me out of bed, and dresses me. I woodenly follow her directions and stand there when she leaves me alone.

 _What if he's dead. I can't let this happen again._

I reach for my hair to pat it slightly. It's in another of the utterly ridiculous hairstyles that my family is always telling my maid to do my hair up in, one of the ones that I pull out the moment I find an excuse to. My dress today is overly elaborate, with embroidered flowers, totally unpractical. Before, I'd found these things necessary to please my family, but I shouldn't be here. I should be with Samir.

* * *

"Brat," Nuan says. I shift the bag to my other side so that he can sit next to me, and he does after a moment. "What are you planning?"

"I'm leaving."

" . . . that's rather sudden. What happened?"

"Someone was hurt, and I wasn't there for him."

There's a pause, and I'm sure that Nuan's staring at me.

"You wouldn't happen to be talking with them in your dreams, would you?"

Talking, not exactly, but the sentiment is close enough. I nod.

"Spirits! It's everyone and their brother around me," Nuan mutters, shifting his weight slightly on the stone roof to run a hand through his hair. "Can I come with you?"

I tilt my head slightly at the question, and after all our time together, he knows me well enough to know what I'm asking.

"No. I'm not doing this because your parents are paying me to." Nuan hesitates for a moment before he continues. "There were some people - my best friend and his brother - who met with people in their dreams. I know that you don't have any opportunities to contact people outside of here, and I thought that . . . that you might be like them."

I consider that for a moment. "You think I'm like your best friend?"

I can practically feel his eyes on me. "Yeah."

I sigh and tilt my face upwards. The air is still, and I and abruptly reminded of Samir

(might be dead I need to go)

"Well then, I'll give you an hour to pack. Be quicker if you can."

Nuan shifts as he nods, and I lean back against the roof so that I can pretend that I'm only sheltered from the wind. Nuan is ready in half an hour, with a set of loudly crinkling papers tucked and wrapped between a pair of earth slabs. Then we're off.

* * *

At the end of the first day, after I'd pulled my hair out of the elaborate (and falling apart) arrangement that the maid had put it in that morning, I silently tuck the pins and sticks and various other things I'd found in my hair into my bag. I can't sleep. The next morning, I pull my hair up into the simpler bun favored by most people, people who needed their hair to stay up while they worked.

Nuan looks but doesn't comment. We break camp and start walking. We reach a small village about halfway through the day, and pick up a lot of food and water. I hadn't thought to get the supplies, and what Nuan had brought wouldn't last for very long. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep, my mind won't stop thinking and I can't stop shifting because Samir might be dead and if he's dead I don't think I can if he's dead then

My head buzzes and one moment Nuan is telling me that he's going to get supplies, the next moment I'm plodding along in the desert again, and I don't know what happened between those two moments.

It happens more and more though, one moment Nuan's humming a song from Dance of the Phoenix, the next he's muttering his way through a ditty that sounds suspiciously like one of Kun's hymns. At one point I find myself leaning against sandstone, face turned to the distance in the direction I know I have to go towards.

Then the night is slipping away and we're walking again. Nuan makes me drink at some point, and I remember tugging at his arm to show his a hidden well where we could refill our water skins at some point before suddenly I find myself looking at a grouping of dark tents, and there are date trees because of course there are date trees, this is an oasis and there are people scattered like matchstick and there are people in metal, silly people, you don't wear metal in the desert and there are people wearing long long robes over robes and there is person with mask and robe walking towards

tent is cool and there is arm on my shoulder and there is Samir and there is Samir and there is Samir and his eyes are closed and I touch his face and I close my eyes and there is talking and there is Samir

* * *

 _Toph?_

* * *

 _Toph!_

* * *

 _Please wake up Toph._

* * *

There's a pair of hands on my shoulders and a smile of my lips as I drift towards consciousness.

Samir is here.


	4. I Bled Indigo Skies:Si Wong Desert

My life, at first was not interesting. I was very much like any other child of my tribe, running around the tents and playing with the other children when the tents were up, and sticking closer to my mom and dad when they were down. Sure, it's true that I was mute, but I learned the silent language of the tribes as any child did, and I was able to communicate that way. Sure, I met with Toph in my dreams, and to others that may have been special, but to me it was as normal as the winds that blow from the east. I can bend air, but that is the same ability that many of my people have.

Even when my tribe was attacked, and I lay on the sand, gasping against the pain of the slash that bit deep into my side, and yet still dropped me like I was a sack of stones, as the footsteps of Fire Nation soldiers crunch in the sand around me, I am normal. Just another tribe, just another of the many peoples to fall to the Fire Nation. I don't know if they found out that my tribe had more of the airbenders that they had tried to wipe out so many years ago, or if it had simply been decided that we were a hinderance to the expansion of the _grand_ Fire Nation.

 _Toph,_ I reach, then I moan and throw up.

* * *

I dream. It's an odd feeling, after so many years of lucidity and Toph. My mind replays one of my people's stories for me, placing me as Ilesh, blessed of Dusk, and come to revive him. Toph is there as Avani, and the role fits her perfectly in a strange way, hiding sharpness behind fans, and a wealthy upbringing behind down to earth practicality.

* * *

I wake to silence and warmth. I can hear the gentle rustling of fibers, and when I open my eyes, there's a man dressed in Earth Kingdom greens, who is rolling a strand of string out.

I'm feel vaguely startled when he looks up, and his eyes are not the green of Manik, who had just woken me in the dream. His eyes are Fire Nation brown, and I can't even bring myself to feel scared. I feel wrung out - like the date-plumbs we leave out to dry whenever we find them.

"Are you Samir?" the man asks, and his fingers still. I nod. "Ah. That's good."

He returns to his string, and I watch him. I wonder if this is all just a dream. If I will wake up on my bedroll to the sound of my mother's absent humming, and children laughing outside.

There's a warmth on my chest, and I recognise Toph when I let myself relax and turn my head.

* * *

The man is gone when I next open my eyes, but there is a man with Ryung's mask sitting across from me and sharpening a sword. The sound rasps in my ears with an almost echoing quality. I watch him drowsily, still half asleep until I fade back out again.

* * *

I next wake up to words gasped in my ears and hands on my shoulders, and pale green eyes and hands patting me gently all over as someone tries to pull them away and "Let me go! Samir, Samir are you okay?"

"He's fine, girl! Now stop pawing at him! You might tear his wounds open!"

The hands abruptly go still, and the blanket is promptly yanked off of me as I blink at the ceiling. Toph - that's Toph in the arms of the man I had thought was Manik, and Ryung - the man with Ryung's mask is looking over me and shaking his head. I watch numbly as he gestures towards a lantern, and fire responds to his call.

He turns to me, and with his hands covered by the suddenly rainbow flames, he slides fingers along my left side.

I sleep again.

Flames surround me in my dreams, burning me over and over because I can't get away not matter how much I run, and my bending only encourages the flames as soldiers in red armour laugh and direct the fire to consume me.

* * *

 _Hey, silly._

I open my eyes to see Toph with a grin on her face.

 _. . . Toph._

 _How are you feeling?_

 _I'm alright. When did we put a tent up?_

Toph's smile dims slightly. _Put up . . . Samir, we didn't put the tent up. We're not dreaming - this is the tent of someone from your tribe._

 _But . . . you're here,_ I say, turning to glance around the tent.

 _Yeah, I came for you._

"Toph, dinner's done," the man I had thought was Manik says, head sticking into the tent. He glances at me. "Do you want me to bring it in here?"

"No," Toph says firmly, and it's a shock to hear her voice. "We'll be right out."

The man nods and ducks out, leaving the tent flapping slightly in his wake.

 _Come on,_ Toph says, turning back to me. _The blue spirit says you're healed enough to get up, so you should._

 _Who was that?_ I ask, allowing Toph to pull me to my feet. I stumble slightly, and she hands me a shirt. _Who's the blue spirit?_

I put the shirt on as I wait for a reply.

 _The man is Nuan - you remember him right? And the blue spirit is a man who's wearing the mask of some spirit and going around helping defend traders and other people from the Fire Nation._

 _Oh,_ I say before Toph is pulling me out of the tent and into the moonlight. There are two people sitting by a fire in front of the tent. I feel a shiver as I look around, in part to avoid looking at the fire. This is the only tent to have a fire in front of it. The rest of the tents are cold and dark, and I want to sink to my knees.

 _Hey,_ Toph says, her arm around my shoulders. _You alright?_

My hands are shaking and my finger nails bite into my palms as the truth sinks in. This isn't my dream. The empty tents do a better job of convincing me of this than Ryung or the Manik-lookalike - Nuan - because this isn't something I would dream up.

 _No,_ I manage to reply to Toph. _No, I'm not alright._

"Hey Toph, is your friend alright?" Nuan asks, and I look up at him, and catch a glimpse of his _Fire Nation_ brown eyes, and I growl.

I leap forward, and the next thing I know, I'm throwing myself at him, howling wordlessly as Toph tries to keep me back - she's only using her arms, but she's just that much bigger than me that it matters, and in a corner of my mind, I know that she could have easily let me go and just used her earthbending. I'm close enough to the stupid lying Fire Nation - Fire Nation jerk that I can almost touch him, and yet he looks so relaxed, as if I pose no threat to him at all -

He smiles at Toph and says, "Let him go."

She hesitates for a moment before she releases me, and I fly at Nuan, swing my fists at his face like my mother taught me but I meet is block after block as I try to hit him, with his stupid Fire Nation face, and his stupid Fire Nation eyes, and his stupid earthbending that he could probably take me out with in a moment because I haven't been taught how to really do anything other than control myself.

My fists get slower and slower as I tire myself out against Nuan, and all he does is keep blocking me with an odd sad expression on my face until I collapse against him. Tears are streaming down my cheeks - have been for the past couple minutes - but Nuan doesn't say anything, simply letting me cry into is shoulder as I keep hitting him - not that there's any force behind my fists any more.

 _Why? Why did they choose to target my tribe?_ I sign, hands flying. _Why didn't I die with my tribe? Was this my fault? Was this because I'm an airbender? Why did I have to be an airbender? Lady Kun, why couldn't I have been one of yours instead?_

"It isn't your fault."

I glance up at Nuan. He eyes are distant as he repeats himself. "It isn't your fault. Most likely, nothing you chose to do cause this."

I push myself backwards, breaking the circle of his arms. " _Most likely? Hah! I'm an airbender! Someone probably saw me, and word got passed around until the Fire Nation hear and said, 'Oh hey! Look, here's another airbender that we need to squash!' So don't go telling me it's not my fault!"_

I can vaguely hear Toph behind me, repeating the words that I had just signed as I glare at Nuan. His eyes narrow.

"Sure!" he exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. "Someone could have seen you bend. But there are a million other things it could have been - you're clogging a trade route they wanted or some commander simply wanted your people dead to prove himself to the Fire Lord. Each of those is just as likely - if not more so! At least you weren't expected to save your tribe - you're young enough that you would have been told to run! I didn't have that luxury! I failed -"

His voice breaks, and he looks away and for a moment I feel so impotently angry that I want to scream. "I failed, and I didn't even manage to do what he always told me to if he died . . ."

"Nuan," Ryung breathes, breaking the silence after a moment, and the man before me jerks, glancing over at the masker figure. Ryung is leaning forward, and though I can't read his face with the mask, it's clear enough that he's not just guessing.

"Who?" Nuan asks, his voice not betraying the lie, and Ryung's mask tilts ever so slightly, like he's looking to someone just beyond me. I glance back reflexively, and shiver at the empty darkness. Whatever he was looking at seemed to have made up his mind, because when I look back at him, Ryung is speaking again, this time with confidence.

"Nuan. It's nice to see you again. I thought you were dead. They said you died with Lu Ten. Is he alive too? Did you ever find Rakesh?"

"Come on," Toph whispers, tugging me away from them. "This is something they need to deal with by themselves."

"Who are you?" Nuan asks behind me, but his voice trembles.

"I'm Zuko," Ryung says, and I glance back as Toph pulls me into the tent. I wipe the tears from my face and follow her away from the fire I'd been avoiding. Under his mask, Ryung isn't that much older than us. I hadn't realised that. "Who else could I be?"

 _Isn't that . . . the missing Fire Price?_

* * *

Life moves on.

I learn that I can't really stand any fire bigger than a lamp or an candle any more. My heart picks up whenever I look at the fire that is set of for warmth and cooking. Toph must have noticed, because after the second night I spent huddled under piles of blankets, my face turned steadfastly away from the entrance of the tent where the fire was visible, the fire was built off to the side so that I could come out without having to look straight at it.

All of my tribe's things get packed up, and everything that I can't bear to leave behind I carry. The rest of the things get put into the seasonal caves for the other tribes to take or leave as they will. I'm not about to go violating that common courtesy for some petty reason such as trying to keep my clan's memory. I didn't want the blood stained tents, the reminder that my tribe is dead.

The only tent I take is one that was never used. It had been meant for Shiel and Anju, for when they felt they were ready to actually get together. It was meant to last a family or decades, and it was easily large enough for our group of four.

I let Toph and Nuan have a choice of a new mount from the ostrich camels we'd managed to round up, then I set the rest of them free to roam the land around the caves. There's a stream originating from somewhere in the depths of the caves that pools to the left of the entrance, and supports enough grass that the herd should be fine until they're all taken in.

I have trouble saying goodbye some of them when we leave - my mother's Girilal; the gentle giant Charan, who was my family's pack animal for as long as I could remember; my father's Kavi. In the end, I only kept my Mi Shin. Zuko was . . . impatient throughout the whole ordeal, and I saw him sitting a couple feet away from the tent he was using and staring at the sky. I watched him in the late evenings, fingers automatically twisting the fiber in my hands into thread.

Once just who Zuko was sank in, I panicked and frantically asked Toph if she'd repeated the part about me being an airbender out loud.

 _What do you think I am?_ Toph asks me as she adds another stitch to the half sewn robe on her lap. _Of course I didn't tell them, I thought that you would regret it later if I did that._

 _Thank you,_ I sigh, sitting back and staring at the ceiling of the cave. _What are we going to do now? I don't think . . . I don't think that I could continue living the the desert like I do now. Too many memories. But, I don't have a clear goal._

 _Well, we could all go and follow Zuko's example._

 _His example? Oh, you mean as blue spirit._ I stare at the ceiling as I think about doing that. _I . . . I actually like that idea quite a lot._

I glance down to Toph as she frowns at the cloth on her lap, then puts in another stitch. _Zuko's already got a mask, so how do you think we should disguise ourselves?_

 _Considering that I can't see, I probably shouldn't have any say in that decision,_ Toph says.

 _Right._ I think for a moment, and remember the nebulous thoughts that I'd had, and my dream. _I think I have an idea._

When we're done packing everything away into the caves, Zuko asks what we're planning to do. Toph and I exchange - well, not a glance, but an awareness of what we're about to do - before we pull out the masks I'd instructed her on making. It had been hard to get them the right colors, but I'd managed to find all of the right minerals while we were at the seasonal caves.

"That looks like my mask," Zuko said reaching forward to brush his fingers over the mask I was holding. He glances up at us. "You want to be defenders. Like me."

He glances over at Nuan, who is watching with a blank face, and beyond us in a way I've come to be familiar with. There's never anyone there when I look.

"Alright."

* * *

Zuko is patient with us, and with his help, we slowly manage to actually stand our own ground against the roving Fire Nation patrols.

About a week after we present the masks, Zuko asks Toph and I what they mean. "At first I thought the you just copied my mask. But, I've been looking, and you didn't did you?"

 _Of course not. Have you never heard of Ryung and Shalim?_ I ask.

" _I_ don't know what you're talking about," Toph says from the other side of the still unlit fire once she's done translating. The others have picked up some of the trade language, but not enough to understand most things I say yet.

 _Then . . . I'll tell you,_ I sign. I hesitate for a moment, trying to find the words. _Once, there was a spirit who killed Dusk._

. . .

 _And he said to his friends, "Should my parents ask, it's too late. I stood and I bled indigo skies." Then he left, and the sun set._

"I can see why we never heard it," Zuko says slowly, once Toph's finished translating. "In a way, it's about fire trying to gain control over the world, the consequences, and the defeat. Not something you want to have known when you're trying to take over the world."

I nod in response. I hesitate over my next words for a moment, before I slowly sign them. _Could you . . . can I see your fire?_

 _Are you sure?_ Toph asks me, and I glance over at Zuko, who's repeating the gestures I'd made and putting the meanings together.

I've thought about this, and I know that I can't keep being scared of fire. If we're going to be fighting against the Fire Nation, we're going to be fighting against Fire Benders, and I'll be worse than useless if I freeze up the moment a soldier bends. I can't be scared of cooking fires for all my life either, one day, I'm not going to be with someone who understands my fear, or I'll be alone, and need to cook for myself. Far better to desensitize myself now, with people I know, and someone I trust ready to help.

 _I'm sure._

"You want me to fire bend?" Zuko asks slowly, before Toph has a chance to tell him what I meant. I nod decisively. Zuko looks uncertain for a moment, glancing at someone who isn't there, like he always does whenever he hesitates. Momentarily, I wonder what it is that he sees when he does this. Then a look of comprehension spreads over his face, and my attention snaps back to him. "Alright."

His eyes shift down to me, and he repeats himself. "Alright."

Toph gets up from her position on the other side of the unlit fire, and come over to sit next to me, her shoulder providing support as Zuko extends his index finger. He takes a deep breath much like the one I take before bending, then lets it out. I take a shuddering breath when the fire flickers into existence between one moment and the next. Toph leans into my harder, but flame flickering in Zuko's finger isn't much more than candles that I've been using, and my next breath is more sure.

I glance up at Zuko's eyes after a moment to see him watching me intently. I can handle this much. I nod. His eyes flicker down to his hand, and I follow them to see that he's extended the rest of his fingers. It takes me a moment to realize that the fire is spreading out to cover all of his finger tips. I start to feel dizzy, but I force myself to keep watching the fire. It doesn't grow any bigger.

Logically I know it doesn't grow any, I can see the lines on the back of Zuko's fingers that indicate his first joint. But suddenly, pain hits me, and I find myself gasping, trying to draw in arm as my hands fly to my side. I can hear Toph talking to me, trying to get me to respond. She moves to look at me, and I collapse backwards without her support. Voices of the Fire Nation soldiers that cut down my people in cold blood overlap with her voice, and and even tough I can see her leaning over me, the white skull faceplates of the soldiers hover before me. Sometimes I'm running, trying desperately to get away, and sometimes I'm laying on the sand and resigned to death.

"Leave him alone," echoes a voice, and I blink to see two soldiers standing over me. The one on the right has his hand flattened, and flames dancing along his finger tips. "He'll die soon enough from that gut wound."

"Koh take it," the boy to my left curses. The two soldiers don't seem to hear him as they turn away from me. The boy to my right grabs my hand, and the two soldiers overlap with him oddly as they keep walking back to the screams of my people.

"Samir, listen to me, you're safe. Toph is here with you - look, she's right there, holding your hand. It's alright. You're - " his voice breaks, and suddenly I remember him. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, runaway, bandit, friend. I push myself up before he can continue, and turn as my stomach rebels to throw up onto the sand.

* * *

"You feel better?" Toph asks gently as she settles down next to me. I nod and pull the blankets tighter around of the earth within a couple of steps distance is charred and ashy, and beyond that, I can see the singed bark and leaves of the trees that surround the small clearing. I shift slightly to brace myself as Toph leans closer, and ash falls from the folds of the blanket. I can't even bring myself to shiver at the reminder of the fire that had blazed hot and bright for moments.

"Have you ever hear of a firebreak?" Toph asks contemplatively after a while of just observing the land around us. I shake my head. I glance over at her to see her playing with some ash, compacting it in the air and making it take of a variety of shapes. Her eyes stare sightlessly out as she abandons any pretense of needing them, and her three free limbs are all touching the ground. Her lips are twisted into a wry smile, and when she next opens her fist, the ash has take the form of flames. "Right, you live in a desert. There's not enough vegetation for a flash fire."

"Well, in Goaling, we were surrounded by forest, you remember? And on the hillsides, there was lots of grass. Three years ago, back when I was four, we had that bad drought. I was worried about my servants - it got bad enough that most of the local farms didn't even bother planting that year, there wasn't enough water to even try it.

"We were still a major trade port, and we managed to survive off of that, but no one carries enough fresh water with them to trade in. I remember the grass on the hills went so dry that it crunched under my feet - the nanny they assigned to me told me how beautiful it was one time, like the hills had been covered in white gold.

"The thing was though, that this meant they were dry. Dangerously so. Mother and Father worried over it almost constantly over the last month, worried that something would happen, and the hillsides would go up in flames right over our heads, and what do you know, they did." Toph chuckles bitterly. "I remember it happening. I didn't know how to see with my earthbending then so all I can remember about that start was my nanny suddenly yelling and picking me up. Then came the smell. It smelled nice at first. Then the air started to get hot. There was a roaring sound, like I've always imagined dragon's roar.

"My parents had dug a shelter, just in case. That's where the nanny was running to. The air grew hotter, and I remember gasping because even though I was breathing deep, I couldn't get enough to breathe. Then suddenly the air grew cooler. The nanny had stopped running, though she starts walking again after a moment.

"Later, she told me what had happened. The hills caught on fire, and it spread quickly because all of the plants were so dry. It managed to spread all the way around the valley, and the only reason it didn't manage to spread down to the floor was because of the fire breaks that my parent had insisted upon.

Toph closes her hand over the ashes.

"A fire break is something that stops a fire from crossing over to the other side. You can do it with water, if you have enough of that, or earth." She pauses, her left hand coming up to inspect the shape of the ashes she'd been manipulating. "Or, you can do it with fire. A fire won't go back over an area that's recently been burned. There's nothing for it to consume because the first fire consumed everything that could be consumed."

I turn to look at the circle of ash and burnt plants around me.

A fire break. Well, I've already been burnt. Mayben I can save someone else from that fate.

Toph's smiling when I glance back at her, and she stands, then turns to offer me a hand up.

I'm still going to be scared of fire when I wake up. I know that, and I know it won't go away quickly. But I can fight, and I can stop this from breaking me.


	5. Warriors of a Different Kind:Kyoshi Isla

Kyoshi Island has long been considered odd, and to tell the truth, I can see why. I've only ever heard of one place like it before, and the people of the Foggy Swamp are considered even odder than we are. People don't understand us. If I told anyone from outside the island that I was a waterbender, they would ask which of my parents was from the Water Tribes, and which tribe it was.

That's not . . . how it works. It's about who you are, not just where you're from. I am a waterbender, but none of my parents or grandparents or any relatives as far back as we can recall have been Water Tribe. But I'm a waterbender. My sister's an earthbender.

Of course, I could just be shifting the blame, most places also think that Kyoshi Island's weird because it seems like we've only got female warriors. While that's not entirely true, we do certainly give off that appearance.

"Minato, break's over." I glance up to see Etsuka grinning down at me. I quickly finish off the bowl of rice I'd been neglecting and get to my feet. I set my dishes down on the counter so that they're off the floor, then reapply my lipstick as I walk over to the group.

"So, what were you thinking about this time?" Kushala asks as I drop into the stretches with the rest of the group, and I grin back at her.

"Oh, you know, the usual," I reply. "We're a weird island with weird people."

A laugh sweeps over the group at my usual answer, and we switch positions. When we're done stretching, we spar. Several of the others, mostly the women who are mothers, have to go leave early to make dinner. In the end, I turn politely away as we change to give the illusion of privacy.

"Minato! Minato!" Yumiko calls as I step onto the porch, and I drop to my knees to hug her. Her arms wrap around me for a moment before she turns and points at the boy following her. "Tell Taro that you're the bestest big brother ever!"

"He is not!" Taro screeches as I swing Yumiko up and settle her onto my hip as I stand. "Susumu's the bestest brother in the world."

Then he glances at me, looking ashamed. "I'm sorry Minato. It's not that you're not really good, but it's just that Susumu's the best!"

"It's fine, Taro," I reassure the little boy before he can get too guilty. "Why don't you run back home? I'm sure your mom's going to have dinner ready soon."

Taro's eyes light up at the mention of food, and he runs back towards his home, calling out goodbye as he leaps off the porch.

"Susumu's not really the best, is he?" Yumiko asks as I slide the door open, and I glance down to see she has her nose scrunched up.

"Of course he isn't." I tap her on her nose and make her laugh a little. "But we don't want Taro to cry, so we'll just keep who the real best brother is to ourselves, alright?"

"Alright!" Yumiko says brightly as I set her down and adjust my bag.

"Minato!" Mom calls as I pass the kitchen. "Set the table!"

"I will," I reply. "I'm just putting my bag away first!"

The bag goes onto the table in the corner of my room, before I head back out to set the table for dinner. It's another normal day, and while it might be boring, at least it's safe.

* * *

I slide a hand to the left in front of me, just in time to deflect the falling water into the pond.

"Really, Kiran? This is a dream, dumping water on me won't make me wake up."

The girl laughs as she settles down next to me. "I'll get you some day. Or, something will happen, and you'll be glad I did this, because you won't have to think."

"Ah, yes, the mysterious someday, this far off future that has yet to come."

"I'm not joking," Kiran says seriously, sitting down next to me, and I feel a pang of guilt as I remember.

"Sorry, I forgot-"

"-that I actually have to fight, while you get to laze around and practice, and etcetera, I know," Kirna interrupts, her eyes gazing somewhere in the middle distance. "I don't really blame you. Besides, it's not like I'm personally fighting yet."

She shakes out her hair, and runs her fingers through it. "So, anything new in your ponderings today?"

I laugh, and tell her my musings on how and why exactly Kyoshi Island is different. Just as I'm wrapping my explanation up, Hikari appears from the forest between one moment and the next. Her face is pale as death, sending both Kiran and me on the alert.

"What is it?" I ask, pushing myself to my feet, and jumping the pond to grab her shoulders.

"Fire Lord Azulon is dead. Ozai is to take his place." She trembles under my hands, eyes unseeing. "Long love Fire Lord Ozai. Long may he reign."

Oh. _Oh._ Oh, Face Stealer.

"And Iroh?" I ask a little desperately. Neither of the brothers were the best of people, but for any choice between them, I would choose Iroh. At least he cared about his children. But Hikari is already shaking her head, eyes focusing on my face.

"He's still gone."

"Ashes," I mutter, letting Kiran shove me aside and grab Hikari. I run the royal family through my mind, trying to figure out who would be next in line, who we wanted to be next. If Iroh got passed up, he won't get back into the line of succession, and since his son Lu Ten is gone, next in line is -

"What about Prince Zuko?" Kiran asks. "How is he?"

"I think -" Hikari pauses to breathe, gulping it like she'd forgotten and had to remind herself. "I think that he's either going to break, withdraw, or run. His mother, uncle, and cousin are gone. Even Vasuman - his servant - left. Azula and Ozai . . . aren't exactly close to him."

"Koh take it," I mutter, bringing a hand up to rub at my eyes as I lean against a tree. Kiran lets got of Hikari to pace the edge of the small pond. "He's the last one who might work. Can you get closer to him?"

"I can try," Hikari replies, wringing her hands. "I don't think it'll work though. Azula doesn't really spend time with Prince Zuko, and I need to be there for her."

"Why do we even bother?" Kiran groans. "Obviously we can't really do anything, no matter where we are!"

"We bother because this is where we live," I say. "We bother because if we do nothing, we are only hurting ourselves."

This is a well worn argument, but it's one that I know Kiran needs to hear. Hikari huffs out a laugh as she hastily wipes away her tears.

"If nothing else, fight for the future. Fight for the children, so they no longer have to live in fear," I say, the both of them mouthing the words along with me.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Kiran grumbles, but her weary smile betrays her feelings. "I swear, even though you always use the same words, you manage to make that speech sound more inspirational every time."

"Say that all you want, you're the one who falls for it, every single time," I scoff playfully. Kiran yells in mock offence, and tackles me into the pond. I come up sputtering to hear Hikari laughing, and I eye her speculatively.

"Hey!" she yelps as she bobs out of the water next to me. "Unfair use of bending!"

We spend the rest of that night's dream splashing at each other in the pool. For all that I argued that we fight, none of the three of us were really in any position to do so without too big of a risk.

Sometimes I feel like I'm a spy. I love my mother and my family, and the rest of the warriors in the village are nice, but I don't really have any close friendships here. I sometimes wonder what it would be like if I left the island. If I left Mom. If I left Yumiko. I'm thirteen, two years older than Hikari. If I wanted to, I could easily leave my mother's house and make my own household.

I know exactly where I'd build the house. There's this old clearing out on the edge of town that would be perfect. Sometimes I go there, and I sit on the dirt to stare at the grass of the clearing between the last house and the forest. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if Hikari and Kiran had been born on the island.

I try to imagine it, but I can't. I can't see Kiran without the odd quirks that crossdressing for so long in order to get into the army had given her. I can't see Hikari without the odd grace she always moves with, grace so utterly different from everything I know, and yet so beautiful.

I try to imagine myself with them, but I can't. I can't imagine being in the Earth Kingdom, and not applying makeup to fight. I know that's what Kiran does everyday. I can't imagine being disgusted by the fact that Kiran, a girl, was fighting. I can't imagine myself in the Fire Nation. Kyoshi had traded with the Air Nomads when they flew out, if they didn't wreak havoc. When the Fire Nation marched on the temples, we took in the surviving Air Nomads, and I can't imagine being taught that they're wrong. I can't imagine Shouhei fighting for anything but to protect others.

Kyoshi is one of the Earth Kingdoms, everyone says.

This is Earth Kingdom land, so its children should bend earth, they say. Which parent was a waterbender? Why are you a waterbender? _Why can't you be normal, and follow the rules like everyone else?_

What is normal? What is normal, when to my people, I am normal? What is normal, when standards differ so widely even within places lumped clumsily together?

This is what I think of sometimes, when I have too much time alone, when I'm working on the fields. I guess, that sometimes I think too much.

Sometimes I'm not normal.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of the front door closing and stare at the ceiling for a moment before I propel myself out of bed. I put my futon away and open the door into Yumiko's room.

"Hey, sleepy," I smile down at my little sister as I gently shake her.

"Minato?" she half asks half yawns, rubbing her eyes. "Alright, I'm up."

"See you in a couple of minutes," I tell her gently before I head back to my room.

I quickly change into the work clothes I'd folded and put onto the shelf in my closet last night, then make my way down stairs. I sit down and start in on my breakfast so that I can prepare lunch.

Yumiko stumbles down a couple of minutes after me, yawning and blinking against the light as she sits down. I glance up when I hear people run past outside, calling something about an outsider, but I'm off duty, so I my attention quickly returns to my little sister. If whoever it is has left by noon or not, I'll learn about them from the others. Right now is my time off.

"Hey, do you think Mom will tell us about the outsider at dinner?" Yumiko asks excitedly, absently putting more rice into her mouth as I glance up at the open window.

"She might if you're good," I reply, glancing back down at her. "Are you done?"

Yumiko hurriedly slurps down the rest of the soup, then nods at me. I giver her a smile as I take her dished over to the sink basin to wash. It's easy enough to bend soapy water over the surface of the dishes to get all of the food off, and soon, the both of us are putting our shoes on to go out. I make sure that we avoid the pole with Kyoshi's statue so that Yumiko doesn't see the hazing routine we give to all newcomers as we make our way out to the fields.

I carefully check each of our fields for their depths as Yumiko skips along side me. A couple of times, I have to go up to the well to bring the water level of a patty back up to the proper level. We head back down to the village for lunch, and I eat that as quickly as I'd eaten breakfast, then hurry upstairs to change into my uniform and paint on the makeup. Mom comes in as I rush down the stairs, and her easy smile put the lingering fear to rest.

"We're fairly sure that he's not a spy for the Fire Nation, but we're going to hold him for a while longer," she murmurs as to me as I pause next to her.

"Thanks," I reply softly, glancing back at Yumiko for a moment, then heading to the square to relieve one of the warriors on duty. I catch Etsuka's gaze across the square the crowd, and she nods in acknowledgement red lips pursed as she turns, taking account of the afternoon shift warriors who are here, and the morning shift warriors who haven't been relieved yet.

I avoid looking at the center of the square. I've seen what we do to outsiders we don't know, and while it's not the worst thing I've seen, it's not something I'll subject myself to if I don't have to. Beyond the wall, I can see the patrol returning from the beach, chatting amongst themselves.

"Please," the prisoner's voice drifts to me in one of the natural silences that sometimes comes over a crowd. "Please, my name is Vasuman, and I mean no harm."

 _Vasuman_ , I think to myself, turning the sound of the name over in my head. I try not to learn names just in case, but it's too late now. _Vasuman. I could swear that I've heard- Last night, Hikari said Prince Zuko's servant's name was - no_

Before I can stop myself, I'm walking towards the prisoner. The questioners glance at me, then step aside as I kneel down in front of the boy who's around my age, maybe a year younger. I feel a twinge as I glance over the blood on his face the grab his collar and lean forward. My mind flies through facts I'd learned about Prince Zuko over the years, things that Hikari had been present for, and therefor Prince Zuko's servant probably would have seen as well.

"What did Azulon tell Ozai when he asked for the throne?" I whisper, and the boy's breathing shutters to a halt for a moment before he whispers his reply with a cracked whisper.

"You should learn the pain of losing a child."

I sit back on my heels to regard the boy in front of me, and he stares back with wide eyes that don't focus on the same point. He's slumped against the pole holding Kyoshi's statue, and where the rope doesn't support him, he's swaying slightly. I weigh the pros and cons for a moment as I watch him try to focus on my face again, then I stand.

"I'll claim responsibility."

A wave of murmuring sweeps through the crowd. Doing this wasn't unheard of, but I was both rather young, and had never been off the island, Despite that, I was a Kyoshi warrior, so I had the authority to do as needed. I glance at Etsuka in time to see her nodding to the questioners and coming forward to help me undo the rope.

"I hope you know what you're doing," the woman murmurs to me as she helps me unwind the rope from around the pole.

"So do I," I mutter, kneeling down and bracing Vasuman against the pole as he sways forward without the support of the rope ties.

"Back to regular duty!" Etska calls to the warriors around the edge of the square as I pull his arm over my shoulder. I stagger a little at the tug of his weight pulling me off balance.

"You want the rope?" Estuka asks, turning back to me. I grimace at the thought of carrying more weight, but I nod in response to Etsuka's question. Even if this is truly the Vasuman that Hikari knows, I'm bringing him to my home, to where my baby sister is. I'm not going to take any more chances than I have to. I make my way back home slowly, and let the boy down to sit on the porch.

He blinks as me, his eyes not entirely focused still, but at least he's sitting up on his own right now. "Who are you?"

"I'm a Kyoshi warrior," I reply as I tie him up again. The thick rope works for his wrists and ankles, the to make doubly sure, I pull out a thinner piece of rope from my kit and use it to tie his thumbs together.

"But, you're a guy," Vasuman says. "Last time I checked, the Kyoshi warriors weren't guys. It was all girls."

I shake my head and pick him up. "That's what we want people to think. Lots of men are taught not fight girls, it throws them off when they come here."

"Guys are stupid," the boy mutters as I carry him up the stairs, and I laugh.

"You're a guy."

"Noo, I'm a kitsune. Look!" I glance down to see what he's doing, and pause at the sight of his hands free. Then the words register, and I nearly drop him.

"You're a kitsune?" I ask, not really hiding my amusement. A kitsune is honestly one of the least strange things I've heard someone with a concussion claiming to be. We're in front of the door to my room.

"Yep!" Vasuman says happily. I slide the door open easily with my foot, years of practice in doing it with Yumiko paying off.

"Well, can you sit here for a moment?" I ask as I set him down on the floor.

"Why?" he asks, reminding me of Yumiko a month or so ago, when she'd asked me why I did everything I did, and why things happened.

"I need to get you the futon," I comment as I move towards the closet.

"Why?"

"You're sick." I pull the futon out.

"Sick?" I glance back - and pause. Vasuman's gone. The only thing in the room is a fox, that is crouched down defensively.

"Vasuman?"

I set down the futon. The fox regards me warily for a moment as I peer down at it after glancing down around the room, for lack of a better option.

"Who are you?" the fox - no, not a fox, the kitsune asks.

"I'm Minato."

"Names don't really tell much. Why did you take responsibility for me?" the kitsune snaps back, lightning quick.

"I know someone who knows someone I thought might be you," I shrug. I eye the kitsune and think back to when it had taken human form. It's eyes had been the beep brown of someone from the far reaches of the Fire Nation, though now, they're both an odd shade of orange. "Are you Vasuman, servant of Prince Zuko?"

Vasuman stares at me, and I go back over my statement a couple of times, trying to figure out what I said wrong, when it occurs to me that people don't usually call the royalty of the nation they're at war with by the proper title, and I mentally hiss at myself. Either way, it's too late to take back what I'd said, so I stare defiantly at the kitsune.

"Yes," Vasuman says, the words coming slow, as if he is choosing them with great care. "I am _Prince Zuko's_ servant. Tell me, Minato, where did you come from?"

"I come from this village. I was born in this house." I pause for a moment. "I've never left the island. Tell me Vasuman, what do you think should happen to the Fire Nation?"

"I think it should collapse, and return to the city state system it had before," Vasuman replies vehemently and immediately. "For as long as I've been watching, those have always lasted the needs an equal, or the whole thing topples sooner or later, no matter how virtuous your leader is."

"Even the Avatar?"

Vasuman stares at me for a long moment, then he grins with sharp teeth. "The Avatar is what makes you equal to the spirits, and while no one human is his equal, even two together are so much more."

"I believe you," I say softly, and for a minute, there's silence. Then Vasuman makes a noise like a sigh, and raises himself from the crouching position he'd held, and he wrapped his tail around his paws, looking almost like a cat for a moment.

"So, you truly are a Kyoshi warrior?" he asks. "I had thought that the warriors of Kyoshi were all female."

"They're not." I turn back to the futon and start to smooth it out, for lack of anything better to do. "Most villages have a couple of guys. It's mostly teenagers, boys that want to help out their mothers, who drop out when they go to join their own family. They weren't about to stop anyone from joining, but the uniform's the same."

I pause for a moment to glance up at Vasmuan. "Most men are told over and over not to hit women, so we try to take advantage of that."

"That makes sense." There's an awkward silence for a moment. "You did a good job. At pretending to be a girl I mean. If I wasn't a kitsune, I wouldn't have noticed."

"Thanks," I sigh. "Look, we're stuck with each other until you can be trusted. You obviously don't have a concussion anymore, so what do you want to do?"

"Well," Vasuman says, and while I can't read his face as a kitsune, his voice sounds thoughtful, "how much do you know about spirits?"

* * *

Life goes on. For the time being, I'm taken off of the active afternoon shift entirely, and left to practice with whichever group is off duty.

Vasuman shifted back before my mother and sister came home, and I never told anyone that he was a kitsune, so as far as I know, no one but me knows. Even without the added attraction of a furry animal, Yumiko takes a liking to Vasuman, dragging him out into the yard to show him whatever new earthbending move she had learned from Mom when we got back from practice. My mother is more reserved, but her attitude softens over the weeks as she watches Vasuman take care of Yumiko.

(Vasuman is bewildered by my sister's attention.

"She's acting like I'm another sibling," he explains to me one night, looking slightly bewildered. "That's never really happened to me before. Hey, stop laughing at me!")

Hikari told me the news of Zuko's disappearance, and I repeated that same news to Vasuman about a week after she told me.

Time passes, and we grow into what I suppose could be called friends. The question he asked me back on the first day led to a plethora of explanations about spirits and the spirit world, and slowly, stories that had before contained actions from spirits that didn't really make sense resolved themselves into perfectly following the logic of the world that Vasuman was revealing to me.

I passed everything I learned from him on to Hikari and Kiran in my dreams, and they told stories I hadn't know, one by one, each fitting neatly into the framework I'd suddenly been given.

("The spirits don't just have one whole different culture, they have as infinitely many as you humans do. And to make communication problems worse, it's like they speak a different language," he'd explained.)

I once asked him about hoshi no tama. He had readily explained many other things about spirits and kitsune to me, including the fact that kitsune are odd creatures. They have the powers of spirits, and thus are regarded as such by humans. But they live and die with humans, and are regarded as such by spirits. He'd even explained that foxes were much like the avatar, meant to uphold order.

(I got side tracked at that, and asked him what had happened a hundred years ago, when the Fire Nation killed the Air Nomads. He'd wrinkled his nose. "Air spirits were all getting in a huff. Some didn't want to live in the temples, and they started a war. Humans didn't really know about it, but every kitsune I knew, and several I didn't were there, trying to soothed the air spirits. We didn't realise what the Sozin was doing until it was too late.")

Surely hoshi no tama were nothing in comparison to admitting a hung failure to do their job. But he went pale and unresponsive. I never asked him again.

(When I told Kiran about it, and confided that it looked very much like the war sickness that some of the older Kyoshi warriors had, she grew thoughtful.

"There are legends where hoshi no tama are a kitsune's soul," she'd said after a moment. "Imagine what someone could do to you if they got their hands on your soul."

Suddenly, his reaction made more sense to me. Neither of us mentioned it to Hikari when she finally arrived. She was younger than the both of us by a couple of years, and I guess we didn't want to spoil the seeming innocence she had.)

When we were alone with nothing else to do, and the air was thick with fright of the great spirits, sometimes we would spar. Vasuman took on different shapes for this, and taught me how to fight and win against as many different body types as he could remember.

Two months after his arrival, I'm slowly put back on active duty for the afternoon shift. It starts once a week, then twice, increasing again and again until I was back to a full four out of every eight days. The build up was torture, reminding me of the days when I was even newer, of when I first joined in and had no idea what I was doing.

Then, a month after I was finally back to regular duty it came.

* * *

It started like a storm, with black clouds in the distance on the southern were warned, and every one prepared for it as best they could. Firewood was taken inside, windows were closed and bolted securely shut, roofs were checked for any leaks with the help of waterbenders, and fixed promptly.

Then, someone notices the sound. It had faded in so neatly that until it was pointed out, I hadn't noticed the screaming and moaning that the cloud bank brought with it. Once I heard it, I couldn't stop.

I stare at the cloud, feeling very cold, and sick. Now that I'm looking at it, I can see things in the cloud. I can see the spirits fading in and out, and driving the cloud forwards, giving it power it wouldn't have naturally. "Inari."

La is crueler than his distant wife, and the people to the south are his people. He does not take kindly to their death and defeat, and he does not hesitate to make his displeasure known.

"It's finally coming," Vasuman says grimly, and I glance to my right to see him with his eyes fixed on the cloud.

"You knew?"

Vasuman meets my eyes, his own the orange that shows when his emotions are running high. "The Fire Nation sent troops to the south on the rumor of a waterbender a couple of months ago. I figured that it wouldn't end well, like every other raid they've made."

"That would explain it," I say, the words bitter in my mouth as I glance back up at the storm. "We haven't seen La this bitter in decades. Since before I was born."

I make a decision, and turn on my heel. "Vasuman, go tell everyone you can find that his is a spirit storm."

"What? Minato? Where are you going?"

"I need to tell the warriors," I say grimly, not looking back. "Go!"

* * *

Etsuka's out of uniform when I find her, but she listens to me, glances up at the cloud, and goes pale. She tells me to get back home, and to send my mother out.

"You don't need me?" I ask, and she shakes her head.

"It's not that we don't need you, Minato. I'm not letting anyone but adults fight."

"Why?" I ask, though I have the dreadful feeling that I already know.

He expression is grim, even as she answers me. "If this goes the way I think it will, anyone who fights will die."

I nod, salute her, and head home. Vasuman is already there, pacing, and he tells me that Mom left already. Yumiko is curled up in a ball in the linen closet. It's the safest place in the house because it's on the first floor and doesn't share any walls with the outside. Vasuman and I join her, and not minutes after that, the wind hits the house with enough force to make it shudder, and he old timbers creak.

I close my eyes and send up a prayer - to La, one of the great spirits of my element in a plea for him to calm down; to Tui, begging her to calm her husband before he killer more of his people; to Lady Kun of the Earth, Mom and Yumiko's great spirit, asking for their protection, and for the stability of the house; and to Inari, asking if this is truly balance.

I haven't explained who our priests and shamans are on Kyoshi Island, have I? When Kyoshi removed us from the mainland, she didn't cut just the land, but many spiritual ties as well. Kyoshi has a culture very different than that of any of the other earth kingdoms, and no priest who has come here since has stayed very long. We had to learn how to hold our own, and there was a very simple answer to that; the Kyoshi Warriors. Near the end of her life, the warriors petitioned Kyoshi, and she granted them the authority needed to banish and control spirits for a domain.

This means that it is my mother out there right now, fighting to keep us safe. It means that Etsuka, and Kushala, and anyone who was allowed to was chanting to keep up the boundary that protects our village. It means that in the other villages on Kyoshi Island, women are standing against the spirits that La has allowed to rise.

Normal humans, even endowed with authority will dissolve before spirits like paper to ashes. Many of those women will die.

This is what I think about in that linen closet, turning the houghs over and over in my mind until I can't stand them anymore. I think about things a lot, but at the same time, I am very impulsive. I stand, and I leave the linen closet, calmly closing the door behind me, and calling water from the air to freeze it in place. I open the front door, and stare out into the storm at rain whips my cheeks. Then I step out of the shelter of the house.

* * *

In awe before the great spirit Inari,

 _-pain pain pain, I gasp. I try to stand again, to run, but my leg only gives out. A hand wrenches me around to look at a white metal skull and a sword flashes in the bright sunlight above me -_

With apprehension and reverence,

 _-I try to swallow, but my throat is still painfully dry. I can hear moans from those around me, but I pay them no attention. I can hear the soldiers arguing about how they are going to give us water, and I let my head roll listly back. I will likely be dead before they decide-_

I humbly speak.

 _-Not my children! I throw myself in front of them, and the fireball impacts my back. I only just manage not to scream, but I can't help dropping to my knees. Ulva rushes to me with the familiar concern in her eyes-_

From morning to night,

 _-I throw my weight into the movements, pushing desperately at the ship, bringing it out of the water. Others join in, lightening the load, and I manage to freeze the water before it crashes out of our control, leaving it ice bound and useless to the_ great _Fire -_

I will apply myself.

 _-I feel sick to my stomach as I watch my child push and pull at the water in her cup. She was my last hope. Now, she is the last of my children who will be delivered to the waves-_

I will neither slacken in my profession,

 _-I clench my fingers at the black snow falling, then quickly, bitterly bring the net in. Another day of not food-_

Nor be neglectful.

 _-Ama! But I can't move, I have to hold myself still, and I stare at the soldier on the other side of the thin wall with hatred,even as I do not dare to breathe-_

Protect my home and my body

 _-I stare at the black snow falling into my hand in confusion. Are the spirits mad? I've never seen anything like this-_

From the twisted deeds of malicious spirits,

 _-Water is also ice, and so we follow its patterns to stand firm against the Fire Nation, sharp formations work better for battles like these-_

With apprehension and awe, I humbly speak.

* * *

I drop to my knees gasping and running the prayer to Inari through my head over and over again. Hands grab my shoulders and pull me back indoors, the door sliding shut in front on me. I close my eyes.

"Minato?" Yumiko asks, her voice coming as if from a distance. I vaguely hear Vasuman comforting her, and telling her to go back to the linen closet. Her footsteps patter away from us until there's silence that is only broken by the fading rain as it hits the roof.

"Minato?" Vasuman asks, his voice much lower than Yumiko's had been. "How do you feel?'

I find myself inordinately glad that he hadn't asked if I felt alright. It takes me a moment to work up the courage, but I eventually manage to reply. "Like I've been torn in two."

There's a sudden stillness to him at those words. "Exactly like you've been torn in two?"

I nod. Vasuman sighs, then cloth rustles and he picks me up. "Sleep. We'll be here when you wake up."

I sleep.

* * *

The aftermath is as bad as feared. Almost every warrior who fought, died, and only one of the warriors who lives is willing to say a warrior. Suki, a warrior my age from the morning shift and the headman's daughter, was nominated leader of the Kyoshi Warriors. While uncertain, she was a good leader, and as time passed without any major mistakes, she slowly grew more certain in her position.

When I went to sleep, first Kiran, then Hikari yelled at me when I told them I went out into the storm, then they cried and hugged me. It was awkward, but I deserved it, so I endured it.

Mom . . . never came home. We had a small ceremony to burn her body and honor her memory. Yumiko was confused at first, but then I explained to her that it was like Dad, and Ama, and Apa. Mom wasn't coming back. I'm still not entirely sure what she thinks about it. She was sad, but soon enough she was back to acting cheerful.

As for me, my trip into the storm wasn't without consequences. That feeling of being torn in two - that had happened to my spirit. Vasuman refused to explain anything more than that. He alternated between yelling at me, and healing me. He drove the first couple of people who came to see us away before they got to see me with his snapping.

Suki was the first one to get past him, with a no nonsense attitude and a blunt refusal to be driven away. She explained what was happening around the village to me, and told me the news about my mother. Once that was over, she asked me if I wanted to continue to be a Kyoshi warrior. Apparently, a couple of the others had left after the storm, so she was checking with everyone to see how many warriors she had left. I said yes, I was staying. The spirits storm had frightened me and injured me, but I couldn't back out now.

A month passed before Vasuman declared me healed, and it was that long before he explained to me exactly what had happened. First, unless you're incredibly lucky, fighting spirits requires you to have some kind of authority to back you up. Most priests and shamans get that from their ruler, or from the spirit they serve. On Kyoshi, we get it from the Avatar. The thing is, except for certain circumstances, the authority takes a while to build up. I didn't have the authority yet, I hadn't been a Kyoshi warrior for long enough yet.

This meant that when I stepped out into the storm, all of the angry spirits tugged at me, and tore off parts of my spirit. If I hadn't been praying to Inari at the time, if I hadn't had his attention, then I likely would have died, the spirits would have torn away everything that made me who I was and left me to join the storm.

All of that's accurate enough, but as for what actually happens, it's hard to describe, and believe you me, I've tried. I could say plug, but that makes it sound more secure than it is. An unsew patch is more accurate, but a bit too loose. A seam under hard use is probably a better metaphor. Inari gifted me with a bit of his own spirit, because that's apparently something spirits can do.

Inari gave me some of his spirit to replace what I lost, and that's all well and good, but the thing is, using the analogy of a seam under hard use, humans are very hard of their spirit, using it constantly. It stands up well enough on its own when it's made of whole cloth, and held together with wire of its own making. This means that what Vasuman had spent the last month doing as he healed me, was creating and strengthening connections between my spirit and Inari's donation.

(Vasuman a ton of stories of what would have happened if he hadn't been healing me. They weren't pretty. Lots of people, thinking they were healed, went wandering off and were never connected to the donated bits of spirit. Those bits eventually left, and the person died. Graphically.)

(Vasuman and I got sidetracked for a while here, as he told me other reasons that a spirit might patch a human's spirit. Apparently, there are three reasons, they like the person, they hate the person, of they don't want the person to die. Also, there's a name for humans this happens to. Jadugara, is apparently what people who have been patched up like this are supposed to be called.)

There's also that fact that humans follow the elemental cycle. Most spirits do as well, but Inari doesn't. It would have been bad enough to be connected to a different element, but once I actually started noticing the changes, being partly of no element was really confusing.

It was the small things that happened. Before, I'd been fine wearing blues, yellows, and greens, the colors of earth and water, but now, I forgot half the time that the colors were associated with the elements. People stared at me the first time I went out in the red clothes I'd dyed and sewn, and it wasn't until Vasuman dragged me back home to change that I figured out why.

Questions I'd never considered before, like why exactly we wear colors associated with our elements came to me, and I eagerly questioned Vasuman.

I'd defended the Fire Nation and the Air Nomads in discussions before, I thought about things so much that it had been almost natural for me to try. Now, while the mindset of a Water Tribesmen still comes to me easiest, I can slip into the mindset of other elements almost as easily.

I told Hikari and Kiran about Inari's gift in my dreams, and about the questions I thought came from it. To be honest, none of the questions were really all that different from the rest that I thought of on a regular basis, they were just as contemplative and odd, and they were just as likely to get the eyes of half the people I talk to to glaze over.

(To be honest, after Vasuman explained that it was far more common for a jadugara to be of two different elements. Some are even able to bend both elements, which honestly makes me shudder.)

Working back up to full time shifts as a warrior, once Vasuman releases me from his clutches, is just as bad as it was the last two times, though there is a lot of relief that, after a month of being forbidden from it, I was finally allowed to waterbend again. (Apparently, bending while you heal after becoming a jadugara is invitation for all of the fragile new connections to break, and for the gifted spirit to go wandering off.)

Life settles down again though, and everything that was new and raw slowly dulled.

Yumiko slowly lost the air of sadness that had settled around her at the news of Mom's , saving my life was enough to get Vasuman accepted, because people had stopped whispering about him when he wasn't there, and he was invited to the first town hall meeting after the spirits storm.

The more things change, the more they stay the same and all.

* * *

So, I'm onto the next part of this. Credit to my friend, the lovely DoctorSmithAndJones, for bouncing ideas and encouraging me. Thank you! Credit to Musings of an Ujiko, for the prayer.


	6. Warriors of a Different Kind:Baoshan

Let's start with honesty.

I've envied Minato and Hikari for almost as long as I can remember.

It's an ugly feeling curling in the pit of my stomach, twisting my words, pulling at me to treat them terribly. I make them laugh, and fall in love almost to spite it.

I look at them, and they're wonderful, smiling at me after every 'trick' I pull (I tell them the tricks are supposed to help them learn to dodge without dying - so they can make mistakes that aren't fatal. Sometimes I can even believe myself.).

I look at everyone around me in my waking hours, and I can't find it in me to reach out because every other sentence feels like a statement of something I can't do, something I have to force. Every smile is a razor blade, every turned face a rock thrown.

Every time I want to rage, there are hands pulling me back, telling me to ignore him to be polite to him to follow his every word. I want to spit and snarl and growl. I want to learn how to pull boulders out of the ground, how to defend myself with all of my talents, not waste my time on the stupid, finicky detail work that I find shoved at me constantly. I don't want to be calmly repairing ladies jewels and clay pots and priceless artifacts in my grandmother's shop.

I want to learn to fight like Minato - he tells me that on Kyoshi Island, it's unusual for a man to fight, that most of their warriors are female. I want to learn like Hikari learns - she tells me that everyone in the Fire Nation is taught how to fight from when they're young. Jealousy smolders in the pit of my stomach, and I have to suppress the eruptive words that want to escape at every casual mention of these differences they make.

In my dreams, before Minato arrives, I spend all of my time in a large clearing in the forest. I pull up boulders out of the ground with sharp motions and send them flying. When that no longer satisfies me, I switch to whipping halos of pebbles at targets with lighting fast speed and intensity, letting loose the anger I always have to suppress.

Sometimes Minato shows up at the edge of the clearing before exhaustion forces me to rest. He never asks what I'm doing or why, he just offers tips from his training with other earthbenders.

It'll never be enough.

Awake, I watch my mother submit to her work as a maid, in a house where she goes through the same motions everyday, and I remember playing with a boy in that house. Though his face and name are long forgotten, I still remember his sister. She'd come across us once, and I remember the stiffness about her, the immovable way she had watched us, the way she turned and the jewels that hung from her hair barely swayed as she followed the call of her teacher.

Awake, I sneak out of my bedroom at night and listen at windows in stolen clothes. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I catch snatches of great battles between the spirits, and our Lady is as fearsome as the Lord of the Flames. Today, when I hear people swear by the spirits, they ignore our Lady, and swear by Oma and Shu.

Sometimes, I hear stories of Kyoshi, the last Avatar from the Earth Kingdoms. According to all of the public shows and everything the king says, Kyoshi was a man, but at night sometimes I hear whispered stories of an Avatar that was very much so female. (Sometimes, in my dreams, I beg Minato for stories about her, and I sit there, listening to him fumble his way through them.)

Sometimes, I hear whispers of the war, enough over time to slowly piece together a picture of what's happening. The Fire Nation has torn through most of the fertile lands to the north of the Si Wong Desert, and while they're currently busy pacifying and colonizing their most recent conquests, it's only a year or two at most before they lay siege to Ba Sing Se. I don't know what will happen then. Without Ba Sing Se's support propping up all of the smaller kingdoms like Omashu and Anshun - and Baoshan, my home - they will fall quickly. A century after the Genocide of the Air Nomads, and Fire Nation will control the world.

Awake, I steal boy's clothes, and I save up the money my grandmother sometimes gives me, after a particularly trying day in the store. I watch the boys run past the shop, march past in straight lines, pull carts, walk, always on their way to _somewhere_. I watch how they walk, how they talk, how they move their hands.

Awake, I watch the women around me, sometimes wondering if I'm just being a little bit silly. Why can I not settle like they have, and be content?

 _Why am I always searching for something more?_ I wonder when I am called in to smooth pieces of glass together for a stained glass window. (The window is meant to go to a temple to the spirits of the earth, and it depicts Oma and Shu together. I don't ask about Lady Kun.)

When grandmother gives me a free day, I dress myself up in stolen clothes and I pretend I'm someone else, pretend I'm on my way to somewhere. (A whole week after the first time, I'm constantly paranoid that someone will come into the shop and recognise me, recognise the boy who had been playing tag in the streets.) I don't think about what I'm doing. I don't think about the fact that it's illegal.

My grandmother teaches me to read and write with the clay of the pots and the plaques and the tiles and the figures we make to sell. I learn in between fixing and making and selling things, and I feel an almost vicious satisfaction with every new word I learn. This isn't power exactly, but it's one less vulnerability, one less way someone can take advantage of me, of my ignorance.

When I'm thirteen, I run away from home.

()

While I guess you could say that I'd been planning my next move for a while, it hadn't exactly been something I thought about. I dressed like a boy because I wanted to run around playing tag, and when you got older, girls stopped doing it. I wanted to play marbles, to play jump rope. I don't want to be restricted to cooking and baking and sewing and cleaning.

When I learned enough characters, I made papers for myself as a boy. I didn't make them to deceive people, but because if I wanted it to look realistic, my handwriting had to look neat. Later on, I got bored of copying the same thing down, so I started making up names, and stories to go along with them. It wasn't too hard to make a copy of the red official seal after my many years of practice piecing gems and pots back together.

I could have gone for years like that. Maybe I would have lingered as I was for the rest of my life - gotten married or become a spinster, taken care of the family business - if it hadn't happened.

There's something about finding your aunt rocking silently in the corner, eyes staring past a dress covered in blood and . . . and other things. There's something about seeing the strongest woman you know flinch away from your touch - from everyone, from her _husband_. There's something about knowing exactly what happened to her, knowing how very easily it could happen to you, that leaves an impression.

So I ran away. I stuffed all of the clothes that I would need - clothes I'd gathered over the years that could pass, some food, the fake papers I'd made, and the money my grandmother had given me over the years, and I headed straight for the nearest army recruitment post the next morning. I registered while I was supposed to be manning Grandma's shop.

I was thirteen - stupidly young, naive - but there was a war going on, so I'm accepted for training and placed with a group of boys my age for training.

Training lasts 14 weeks, and it's so different from anything I've experienced before. They threw benders and nonbenders together for the most part, with the exception of classes on how to fight other benders. For those classes, they split benders off and teach them how to fight with their bending.

I learn quickly that I'm too aggressive to be the perfect fighter - when you fight with earthbending, you are supposed to respond to your opponent's attacks. It's not all throwing huge rocks around like I'd practiced by myself. That's what fighters did in matches were held on the spring solstice for the public's entertainment, but you can't do that as a soldier without hitting someone on your side. Instead, they teach us how to pull up walls and spikes and how to send small rocks flying with a flick of the wrist.

When we aren't learning to bend, there are the lessons on how to fight without bending, swim lessons, endurance running, climbing ropes and cliffs the instructors made for us. Though the work's hard, and I'm more sore every day, I refuse to complain like some of the other boys. Mostly, it's the noble boys who complain, grumbling under their breath time after time that they _won't ever use this training_ , that they're _going to be officers, not common grunts_ , but I recognize most of the rest of the complainers as children of the artisans that serve the nobles.

Because I'm so determined not to complain like the lot of them, I notice that out of the whole lot of them, there only one who isn't constantly whining - who isn't whining at all. I note him, and get back to training.

I eat, sleep, drink, and breathe the training. If it hadn't been for an instructor pulling me aside after the first week of training and telling me on no uncertain terms that if I kept practicing on my own, I would hurt myself and get kicked out, I would have kept practicing long after we were dismissed. Without that, I find that I don't have much to do during the breaks. All of the boys had made friends while I was out in the field, and whenever I try to join a group, they would stare at me until I went away, then whisper about it.

Without much else to do, I find myself fiddling with a bunch of small rocks that I dug up. They feel odd, and it takes me a while to realise why - I've bent regular rocks this size before, but I've never really focused on them like I focus on the clay pots or the precious and semiprecious stones that people bring us to fix. These stones feel different, so I spend my free time nudging at the miniscule particles with flicks of my fingers.

The training seems to last forever, and for no time at all, and suddenly I find myself at the end of it, taking papers that confirm my graduation on one side, and assign me to the City Guard on the other. I passed. I sit there on my bed for an hour of the day we'd been given to pack up and make our way over to the Guard barracks. Then I take a shaky breath, roll the orders back up and shove them back into my bag.

That night, after I've settled down in the new barracks, new and different people filling the air with snores and groans and the other myriad sounds of a bunch of humans sleeping together, I dream. Minato comes first, like he always does, and I tell him what I'd managed to do. He's only ten, only just starting to think of joining the Kyoshi Warriors like his mother instead of simply farming the fields, and he's so excited. He jumps up on me, yelling that he knew I could do it, then asking me what it was like, if I was out fighting the Fire Nation yet-

I have to tell him to calm down, to remind him that I'm going to be a City Guard for years before I'm sent out to battle.

Hikari comes a while after him, and she looks confused when I tell her I've graduated.

"What do you mean you've graduated? It's only been three and a half months! It hasn't even been a whole year!"

She gets worked up, insisting that I need to learn more, and that I hadn't leaned nearly enough, and are they trying to get me _killed_? No matter what we say, neither Minato nor I can manage to get her to calm down as she starts crying, so in the end we just curl up under a tree and let her wear herself out. It takes her maybe an hour before she stops crying, sitting on my lap, with a possessive hand around Minato's arm, and she refuses look up.

"I don't want you to die," she mumbles into my shirt, her breath still uneven. "I don't want you to die, but everyone else is always telling me not to worry, that they'll kill the big bad earthbenders and waterbenders for me. And everyone spends years training - and you only spent a couple of months! I don't want you to die!"

()

The dreams ends eventually, like it always does, and I sit up in the busy barracks. I grab my clothes and soap and make a run for the bathroom. And I wonder, in that half abstract way I always do when I wake up, if Minato and Hikari are even real.

I pull up a curtain of rock in front of the shower/toilet cubicle, and outside, a couple of guys call me a prude tauntingly as I relieve myself and wash off quickly. I call back to them that there are some sights I want to save for my wife, and they laugh. I know what they're thinking - in training, guys only pulled up a curtain if they were ashamed of something, or if they wanted to have some fun. Once I'm done, I pull the curtain down and step out of the cubicle with my pajamas under one arm. I head back for my bed, and sit down to strap my boots on.

"You're Kiran, right?"

I glance up to see a guy staring at me. It takes me a moment before I recognise him as one of the boys who had been in my training group - the only obviously rich one who hadn't complained about everything the instructor were putting us through. "I am."

"I'm Gopan," the guy offers as I finish tying my second boot and stand.

I glance over at him and nod. "Hello."

Then I turn and and walk towards the hallway to I can get to the mess hall for breakfast. I sit down at one of the wood benches with a tray after standing in line, and glance at the hourglass over the doorway to see how much time I have. Gopan sits next me as I start in on the porridge, and I try to ignore him as I eat. I finish the food on my plate, then turn to look at him.

"So. What do you want?"

Gopan glances at me, then pushes his bowl away, ignoring the rest of the porridge. "They're going to put me in charge of one of the City Districts in a couple of years."

"What's that got to do with me?"

"I was hoping you'd be my deputy."

 _Short, sweet, and to the point. At least he isn't trying to talk circles around me like the other rich boys._

"Why me? There are dozens that you could choose from, and most of them will have a good lot more experience than I do, especially seeing as I've got none."

"I've been watching you. You're smart, and you can think, which is more than some of the others can. And frankly," he pauses, looking a little embarrassed, "You don't have any set habits I would have to train out of you."

 _Very to the point._

"And none of the others were good enough? Or one of the guys from the previous sessions?"

"Intelligence and creativity are valuable commodities in the army. So, will you be my deputy?" Gopan asks, leaning towards me. With his face so close to me, it's hard not to focus on his eyes, which are a lighter shade of green than most of the people I've met, and slightly unfocused.

I wrinkle my nose, push him back so that he's not in my face, and glance at the hourglass. "Maybe once I get to know you. Right now, I've got to go. I'm not going to be late for my first day of work."

()

Months pass, and I get used to patrolling the section of the district that I'm assigned to or standing guard at a door with whatever partner I have that day. They never send me out with Gopan - probably something about having at least one experienced member per team - but whenever I'm not on duty, he finds ways to spend time with me.

Around the third month, my period starts in the middle of a patrol. I've heard of periods before - it was kind of hard to miss my mother and grandmother washing bloodstained cloths when there was no reason for us to have any. The hardest part was figuring out how to get the cloths washed and dry. I manage that by getting enough cloths to last for a week, and taking them to a laundry house, telling them it's for my sister.

I overhear some of the older guards talking in the break room, betting on which of the new-guards they thought would actually make it into the army. The pattern wasn't hard to discern - a couple of minutes later I could easily see what lines they divided us on. Most of the boys who'd been better at bending during our lessons - the calm ones, the ones who reacted to their opponents and didn't make the first move were all shoe-ins from staying as guards, while the guys who were aggressive like me were all sure bets for getting into the military.

I have to leave before my name comes up, but what I overheard was enough to make me wonder and think. I'd mainly joined the army in order to learn how to protect myself, to get away from the harsh truth of what happened to my aunt, to make sure that what happened to my aunt couldn't happen to me. I knew that I wouldn't go straight out to patrol the land and the smaller villages under Baoshan's wing, but I hadn't known that I could stay in the city.

I have four years before I'm sent out to the actual army. Four years to convince my superiors which job I'll be better at - soldier or City Guard - and now that I have that choice, I'm not sure what to do. I know how to defend myself now - I've learned what I ran away to learn. I thought joining the army was the price I had to play, but now that I know there's a lesser option . . .

I'm not patriotic. I don't quite hate the place I grew up - it'll always be home for all of it's faults - but I've heard too much of other places where women and girls have the opportunity, the right to defend themselves. I'm not patriotic, and now that I know there's a way for me to be safer than I could ever be outside the city, I should take it.

I should. I'm not patriotic.

But I am jealous. I am the only one of the three of us in my dreams who isn't serving my home. Minato made the decision to join the Kyoshi Warriors like his mother when he had turned eleven. Hikari's only six, and she's already a servant in the royal household, already training to be handmaiden to a princess in line for the throne. They have some greater cause than themselves, and I want that. I'm the eldest, but I want to be more like them.

This is what makes up my mind - the decision that I'm not going to take the easy way out. At breakfast the next morning, I tell Gopan I'll do it, I'll be his deputy.

I almost want to laugh as he visibly pauses. I kept him waiting for months as I weighed the pros and cons, but suddenly my path seems clear. Gopan is from a noble house, and from what I heard the day before, he's pretty much guaranteed a spot in the army. I'll get my greater cause if I have to cling to him to do it.

()

 _Ow. Ow._

I try to ignore the stinging rocks and focus on my meditation, but it's all rather hard _with someone throwing rocks at me every few seconds_. I yelp as the last rock scrapes my arm, and I leap to my feet.

"What was that for?"

Gopan stares at me, distinctly unimpressed. "I didn't throw that rock any harder than any of the other ones. Sit back down."

I stare at him, then grumble and do as he says. "Remind me why we're doing this again?"

"Because you-" a rock hits the middle of my back "-need to learn to be less aggressive. You'll be able to fight better when you've got more balance."

"Can't we do something else? It's been two turns of the hourglass, and I think I'm covered in bruises."

There's a pause, then Gopan sighs, and I open my eyes to see him setting down the rocks. "Fine. We can take a break."

 _Finally!_ I stretch and yawn, then slump down, glad to finally be free of the restricting pose. I pull one of the stones that I've been working on occasionally out of my pocket and reach out to it to find where I left off. I'm still not entirely sure what I'm doing with these rocks, or even what I want to do with them, but if nothing else, they do keep me busy. Right now, for lack of anything better to do, I'm mostly shifting the particles around so that they form the rigid structures I'm used to feeling when I work at this level.

I'm half aware of Gopan settling down next to me, but he doesn't say anything, so I ignore him and keep shifting the things within the rock slowly, twitching my fingers carefully to bring the particles into alignment.

"What are you doing?" Gopan asks, and it takes me a moment to realize that he spoke.

I open my eyes, and shake my head to clear it, then I glance over at him. "What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"You're obviously doing something with that rock," Gopan says, "you've been working on it for months, but it doesn't really seem any different from it was when you first had it."

I hesitate. My grandmother and I were very good at what we did, for working class people, good enough that the lesser nobles sometimes called upon one of us to help instead of the higher class artisans. But in the working class, our work wasn't something men did, and Gopan knows what class I came from. If I tell him what I'm doing - why I'm doing it, he might figure out that I'm not exactly . . . that I'm not exactly someone who can be his deputy.

By law, he would be obligated to turn me in.

"It's nothing," I say, moving to put the stone back into my pocket. Gopan catches my wrist, still staring at me.

"It's not nothing. That's the most focused and calm I've seen you. You've been doing this for months, and you are doing something with it. It is _not_ nothing." He searches my eyes with that odd, unfocused gaze of his. "Kiran, what are you doing with that stone?"

I stare helplessly at him. If I don't answer him now, he'll just keep asking. He was willing to wait for four months when he asked me to be his deputy. Then, if I had said no, he probably would have left. But I said yes, and I'm his business now, and unless it's something I straight up refuse to do, something I tell him I cannot do, I don't think he'll take no for an answer.

"I don't even know what I'm doing," I say, looking down at my crossed legs, hoping that the partial answer will satisfy him, but when I look back up he's still frowning.

"Then what do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know. I guess - I'm trying to make it feel like the other stones I've felt." I tug slightly against the wrist still in his grasp as my eyes drop to the ground again. "Can I go now?"

I can feel his eyes against my skin like they're a physical force. He lets go of my wrist.

"You can go."

I quickly stand and make for the door.

"And Kiran," he calls, forcing me to pause and glance back. "Bring the rock with you next time."

()

I bring the rock.

Actually, that's wrong. I bring a different rock I picked up at some point that I hadn't messed with yet.

Today, I'm the first to the courtyard we use to practice. I had one of the patrol routes that stayed closer to the station, so I got back fairly quickly once the patrol time was done.

Without Gopan around giving me something to do, without the distraction of home, I'm bored. The last time this happened, I started feeling fiddling around with rocks, but that's not an option right now considering the fact that _I'm waiting for the person doing that got me in trouble with._

Eventually, I crouch down and sink my fingers into the dirt. I consider the dirt as I dig my fingers in and root myself there for the moment. I could . . . make something. Gopan will probably notice if I something with any of the rocks, but messing with the dirt won't leave a trace, or at least not one that any other earthbender wouldn't leave. I settle back into a more comfortable position, then pull up with my rolled fingers to bring a chunk of dirt out of the ground.

It's easy enough now to separate it into the different possible sizes, each type flying out of the pile at a flick of my wrist. There isn't enough clay to work with unfortunately, so I have to set that aside, along with sand, which I hated working with. This leaves me with the loose silt, which I pull together and crush until it's about as hard as a rock, and the size of two fists.

I shift the shape so it's thick disk rather than some sort of blob, look it over critically as I consider what I can make from this amount of material. I consider several designs that would be worse that useless to me considering that I'm not coming right now, and I can't sell them off before I think of making a water jug for myself. It's still nothing I need, but it would be nice to have something to drink when I'm posted at some guardhouse, waiting for people to approach the gate or come running for help.

With that decided, I start tapping one foot slightly against the grounded to set the disk spinning. I dig into the center and pull it towards the edge slowly with curved fingers. Over and over, I have push and pull at the silt, urging it into shape, mindlessly boring the difference between working with silt and clay as I push it up.

When I'm done, I stop tapping my foot, and slowly set it down onto the pile of sand and clay in front of me. It's not my best work, but I'm used to working with silt, and its misshapen form doesn't stop it from holding water.

I glance up reflexively at the sound of footsteps in the corridor, expecting yet another person walk past, in time to see Gopan stride into the courtyard. He nods at me, but the gesture is absent, his attention fixed more on the jug in front of me than on his actions.

I glance between them, wondering what's so fascinating about a lopsided, unglazed water jug, before I realize that the jug's unfinished nature makes it rather obvious that I am probably the maker. I restrain the urge to bang my head against the wall. If been so worried about Gopan figuring out I was a girl from the rock that I'd gone and done something even more discriminating to distract myself. Great thinking there, really.

I wait stiffly for Gopan to say something, about the jug, about the rock, about who I am, as he sits down in front of me and offers me the small bag that contains his latest attempt to help me find a focus for mediation. It's like there's nothing unusual. He opens his mouth and asks, "Were you teased?"

"Excuse me?"

"Were you teased because you were a stoneworker?" Gopan asks curiously, as if I hadn't been so worried about him finding out just that. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

My fingers tighten around the neck of the bag. Suddenly, I'm angry. If it wasn't something that could lead to my identity, I wouldn't be this scared. I wouldn't bother hiding it, I'd fix broken cups in front of the others because I am not ashamed to be a stoneworker. We're not potters or sculptors or masons or glassworkers or jewelers, but we know how to work with their materials. We know how to fix their work so they're as good as new, or better. It takes delicacy and patience that I haven't been able to find anywhere else, and I'm proud.

"It's alright!" Gopan says hurriedly, trying to reassure me.

"That's not something - that's not something you say to people," I tell him. I force my fingers to loosen around the bag because sometimes the things he brings are breakable. "You don't just ask - we're in the army! Do you know what people would say if they found out? Do you know what they'll think?"

"I'm sorry! It's just - I wanted to know, and I thought it was nothing to be ashamed of, and you'd never minded before -"

I'm on my feet with no memory of how I got there, watching Gopan scramble to match me as I yell. I don't know what I'm saying, and suddenly I can't take it - the panic in his eyes, the confusion, the signs he _doesn't know_ why I'm so angry, so scared, so frustrated. He doesn't understand, he doesn't know, no one knows - no one can ever know if I want to be able to stay here - and I can't take it.

I turn and I bolt out of the courtyard, and I run out of the guard station. I run through the streets, part people, past stalls, past everything. I slide around corners and through alleys, I go under fences and over to heedlessly until I myself at one of my old favorite places to events on people at night.

There are tears that I don't remember, and my chest heaves with a sob as I collapse downwards to bury my face in my knees. I can't stop crying.

I think of my mother and my grandmother, of my aunt and my uncle, of how I left them for this. I think of Minato and Hikari in my dreams of how amazing their lives sound. For the first time, I wonder seriously if they're real. I wonder if I really am just as unnatural as the neighbors sometimes whispered I was. I wonder if I should just - just leave. I miss my mother. I miss my grandmother.

"Kiran?" I glance up to see Minato hovering over me uncertainly, hands fluttering at his sides like he wants to touch me, but doesn't know if I want him to.

I don't want to do this. I want to be alone right now, but Minato looks so worried. I wipe the tears away and take a breath. "You thought of anything new today?"

The worried look doesn't fade as he sits down next to me, not touching, but close enough for me to bridge the distance as he starts talking. I let the sound of his voice wash over me as he talks, listening more to the cadence than the words as I force myself to relax.

I offer comments on his thoughts occasionally, limiting some to Kyoshi Island, extending others to at least Baoshan. Hikari comes at some point after Minato started talking, and her eyes linger on my face as she sits down in front of us, no doubt noting my puffy eyes.

She talks about the royal family, and Minato must have run out of thoughts because he starts telling stories about his sister, and about the funny things that the other Kyoshi Warriors in training have done. I lean against Minato as the stories continue, tired of tears, of anger. When it gets to be time for me to leave, I sit up and stretch. The others watch, used to me leaving first.

"He asked me if I was teased for being a stoneworker."

They sit up straight at my words - words they had no doubt been waiting for all night.

"I think I'll tell him who I am," I say as I turn away so that I can't see their reactions. "I . . . I need someone else to know."

I flinch away from the arms that come around me for a moment, then relax into the hug.

"It's alright," Minato says gently as he tucks himself against my side. "It'll be fine. You've told us that he's nice, right? He'll understand."

()

I wake up tucked against the warmth of a chimney. I stay that way for a moment, shivering slightly in the cool morning air before I push myself up. I'm a bit sore in some places from the awkward position I fell asleep in, and my eyes are even more crusted than normal because of the tears.

I bring my hand up to run at them, then pull it away from my face at the feeling of fabric against my skin. I peer blankly at the cloth sucking out of my closed first for a moment before I figure out that I should open my first so I could see the rest of whatever it is.

I uncurl my fingers slowly, and stare at the small bag. It's the one Gopan's always giving me with his latest attempt to help me find a good focus for mediation. I don't remember bringing it with me. Almost morbidly curious, I pull at the neck of the bag to open it, then dump the contents into my hand.

A bunch of gems tumble out, clicking against each other in a way that makes me want to wince and check to see if any have chipped. I don't. I examine the stones, picking them up one at a time to identify them. Most of them have been cut, and as I closer, I can see little scratch marks in the sides of some that indicate they were pulled out of their settings in rings or whatever jewelry they were in. There were also a couple of larger stones, polished, but uncut.

I recognize most of the stones easily; there's some very nice amber, topaz, bloodstone, and jade. Then there are a couple of stones that . . . that can't be what I think they are. There is no way he just handed me a bunch of very expensive gemstones. There's no way he handed me emeralds and green sapphires.

I look them over again, comparing them to the vague memory I have of the real thing from when one of the upper class woman had let me examine her jewelry as my grandmother fixed her vase in the back room. Then I shake my head. Now's not the time or place for this - I need to get back to the station in time to report for my patrol.

I pour the stones back into the bag - more carefully than I had taken them out with the possible identity of some of the stones in mind - close it, and tuck it into one of the inner pockets of my jacket.

I thread my way through the slowly waking city streets back to my guard post. It takes me longer than I would have liked, but I'd been assigned far enough away that no one who could recognise me was likely to see me, so I can't complain. As I thread my way through the market district, I buy a pair of streaming chicken-pork buns from a yawning vendor, and eat them for breakfast. I arrive back at the station too late to be put on any of the normal patrols.

Rasul - the man in charge of assigning missions - glances over me as I walk in, no doubt noting my sleep crumpled clothing. He doesn't comment on it, just orders me to change into my uniform and come out for desk duty.

I nod without looking up, and make my way to my bed, to grab my uniform. I go and change in the bathroom, and splash water into my face to clear the lingering tear nods at me as I emerge, and leaves his spot behind the desk.

"Don't forget, if you need any runners, there's a bunch of men sitting in the rec room," he reminds me from the door of his office. I nod to the closed door, then sit down.

The rest of the morning passes slowly, and I find myself playing with the gems Gopan had handed me. Around noon, I glance up from one of the gems (that better not - that can't be a sapphire), when Rasul clears his throat.

"Guard, lunch time."

"Alright?"

Rasul gives me a look.

"Go eat."

"But I have desk duty," I protest, even as I scramble to get all of the gems back into the bag.

"Go eat lunch officer. I'll put you back on patrol after."

"Yes sir." I stand, leave the chair for Rasul, and, after a moment's aimless confusion, wander in the direction of the cafeteria. The cooks are only just starting to put out the large trays of cooked meat and vegetables in their sweet and savory sauces, and the pots of oat rice with different seasonings.

I wonder what prompted Rasul to release me so early as I grab a tray, and quickly serve myself. Before I can sit down to eat though, footsteps pound into the room, and I glance up just in time to see Gopan as he slides to a stop, relief all over his face.

"Kiran! Thanks to the lady," he says as he advances on me. I step backwards instinctively, and he freezes.

An almost hurt look flickers over his face before he frowns, and suddenly just looks sad.

"Kiran, I-" he cuts himself off, glancing over at the kitchen where some of the cooks are staring at us. They're doing it discreetly, but it's happening, and I can't help but suddenly feel grateful for them. I should be annoyed at their gossiping, the lack of privacy, but while they're here, it seems that Gopan doesn't want to talk. And I don't want to talk at all after yesterday.

I still think I should tell him, still need to tell someone, but abruptly, I don't want to talk. I put my tray on the nearest table and sit, ignoring Gopan. Voices in the hallway signal the approach of more people, but I ignore that. I ignore them and I ignore Gopan, and I ignore everything as I eat my lunch. I thought I could tell him the next time I saw him - I had all night and all morning to get over his questions - but I can't. I'm halfway aware of Gopan sitting across from me with his own tray as more people steadily stream into the mess hall. I don't look up.

I just eat, breathe, and try to calm myself down. In the back of my head, determination beats steadily louder.

I finish eating, and look up. Across from me, Gopan's picking halfheartedly at his rice, most of it gone, but a good amount still covering the bottom of his bowl. Around us, the mess hall has filled up, and people are talking, filling the room with the soft roar of their conversation.

I stand and take my tray over to the kitchen counter to be cleaned, then make for the hallway, trusting Gopan to be right behind me. I wait for him next to the door, and I'm not disappointed when he walks out calmly a couple of seconds after I do.

I stare at him for a moment, taking in his surprised expression as he registers my presence, and I feel tired. I feel exhausted.

"Come on. Let's go somewhere we can talk privately," I mutter, crossing my arms. Gopan eyes me, then nods.

"I asked to borrow one of the conference rooms. We can talk there," he says as he starts off down the hallway.

I follow him down the hallway. The room he takes us to isn't big; there's only just enough room to pace around the table. I sit. If I stand, I'll run, and this time I won't come back.

Gopan paces on the other side of the table, glancing at me every couple of seconds. I take a breath.

"I'm not . . . I'm not sorry."

Gopan stops pacing to look over at me, then sits down at the table with a frustrated sigh. "I am. I shouldn't have asked. I don't . . . I'm trying to get to know you, but I don't need to pile at your store spots. I didn't know that. I've never done this before."

He pauses, looks at me. His eyes don't focus on my face, but they never have. In this light, they look darker than they normally do, still not reaching any eye color I would consider normal, but they're not so faintly green. I fold my hands in front of me.

"I have to tell you something."

We both pause, watching each other warily.

"I'll go first," I offer after a moment, and he nods. "I'm not a . . . I'm female. As in . . . I wasn't teased for being a stoneworker because it was a perfectly respectable job."

"Oh. I was going to say - do you want me to go - I," Gopan stops, looking uncomfortable. "Um. That would explain a lot."

"I would hope not," I reply, watching him. He's not leaning away. I glance behind me for a moment as footsteps pass the closed door, my heart beat pounding louder in my ears for a moment.

"I can see why," Gopan replies as the footsteps fade away, fingers tapping on the table like he wants to return to pacing, but can't now that he's committed himself to sitting. Then, like he can no longer hold it in, he blurts out, "I'm blind."

I hear his teeth click as he closes his mouth, then the room is silent as he goes still. He doesn't look at me. I watch him for a moment, thinking about the way his eyes don't focus.

"Alright." My fingers are clenched when I look down. I straighten them. I wonder how he reads. "I think that I need some time. To think."

"That's fine," he replies.

I flee the room.

Rasul is talking with one of the older guards when I step into the entryway, and he waves me over and assigns me to one of the farther guardhouses. I spend the afternoon there thinking, like I had at the front desk of the station.

I still want to be a soldier, to have some greater cause. Gopan is still my best shot at it, and now that we've traded secrets, I can't transfer away from for fear that he'll tell. He can't leave either. Being blind is almost as bad as being female.

I wonder what he had intended to tell me before I told him I was a girl.

And . . . we could be friends. I could have a friend I don't share dreams with. I've never quite dared to try before; I didn't want to be called crazy.

I go to the courtyard we've been training in and sit opposite where I had sat yesterday, opposite where I had sat every other day before now. It's new, and I feel slightly nervous at that. I don't know how Gopan will approach me, I don't know if he'll even think to come here after yesterday, and now I don't know the ground around me. But it's a new beginning, and that's what I feel like we need.

Gopan comes in only a couple of minutes after me, and it takes him a moment to find me in my new spot. I watch him carefully, track the way how head tiles and what I can see if his eyes, and I wonder if I could have, should have discovered his secret sooner.

His eyes meet mine as he turns. Even though I know he can't see, it feels like they're seeing who I really am. Then he smiles at me.


	7. Warriors of a Different Kind:Honoiro

"Would you happen to have tea for an old man?"

I freeze in the middle of setting the teapot down.

I know that voice. I know that voice, but he can't be-

"Uncle Iroh."

Azula's eyes are focused behind me, narrowed in the defensive glare she always presents when she's hurt, surprised, _vulnerable_. Her voice is the same whip snap of pain as she tilts her head, her sharp gold eyes unwavering. She should look fierce, like a bird of prey, but all I can think of is how fragile birds are.

I glance for a moment at the guards scattered throughout the grounds, catching the tail end of Fuyuko's dress as she walks out of the garden with another guard, probably on their way to inform the Fire Lord. I don't doubt that (Prince? General?) Iroh noticed them - even a prince wouldn't have become a front line general if their situational awareness was that bad - but the promise of backup makes my breathing easier.

Azula's fingers tap on the table to between us, giving the illusion of thought, but I can tell from the way she's settled back that she already knows how she's going to answer the question. Then she nods to me, her eyes never leaving the man behind me.

"Pour the man some tea, Hikari."

I quickly set another place at the table with the extra cups and plates I'd brought on the off chance that one of Azula's suitors decided to take tea with her, then carefully pour tea. My ears are attuned to every step the man makes, to the shuffle of his feet on the ground, the whisper of cloth.

His clothes, when I finally dare look at him, are threadbare and so much like Kiran's that it takes me a moment to recognise the familiar face over them.

I can see Azula's tension in the tilt of her cup, in her eyes. I can't blame her. Iroh, like everyone other than her father favoured her brother. I freeze for a moment, guilty as I remember that I've favoured her brother just as much as every other person around Azula has.

"Thank you," Iroh says to me as he picks up his cup. He closes his eyes as he talks a sip. "Mm."

"Uncle. Where have you been?" Azula asks as Iroh sets down his cup. There's genuine interest in the way she's leaving forwards subtly, and caution in the way she brings her cup to her lips.

"I would say, but I don't you'd believe me," Iroh says gently to her. "Now, where's your brother?"

 _Dismissal. Asking after her brother._ I carefully don't wince. Azula shifts, a subtle movement that could be mistaken for relaxation if you don't know her.

"He's gone," Azula says. "Disappeared the night of Father's coronation."

I can't read Iroh as well as I can read Azula, but they must have learned some features from the same people because the way he picks up his cup is eerily familiar.

"And how have you been?"

 _Changing tactics won't help._ I glance over at the sundial and have to restrain myself from a sigh of relief.

"Princess," I say softly, bringing both sharp gazes to me. "It's time for your lessons."

Iroh's eyes flicker to her, but Azula just stands, smoothing out the wrinkles in her pants without a glance at her uncle.

"Of course."

I leave the tea set out for one of the other servants to handle as Azula walks calmly, confidently out of the garden.

We pass the Fire Lord on the way out of the garden, and Azula bows to him with a murmured, "Father."

Fuyuko, behind him, halts at the sight of Azula. Once the Fire Lord has swept away, she falls into step with me behind Azula.

"Hikari," Azula murmurs as we follow a twisting path through this section of the palace, "Do I have any plans for dinner tonight?"

"No," I reply quickly. "All of your suitors have other plans tonight, and you had breakfast with the Fire Lord this morning."

"Hmm." Azula stops and turns back to me. "Please see if Mai and Ty Lee are available. And make sure that there's breakfast waiting for me after my lesson."

"Of course, my lady," I reply, bowing my head. "Will that be all?"

Azula hesitates, chewing her lip in a way that would have her etiquette teacher smacking her with a fan, true hesitation shadowing her features for a moment. Then slowly, "Aoi was planning to have dinner alone tonight. Change that."

She turns on her heel and continues on her way to her bending lessons, Fuyuko following quietly in her wake.

I hesitate in the main hallway for a moment, then walk over to the wall. Shifting aside a tapestry portraying some act of valor by one of the past Fire Lords, I quickly find the catch for the hidden door, and slip into the dimly lit servant's passage. I hurry towards the scribe's room, only pausing to grab a page to tell the cooks to send Azula's dinner to her quarters tonight.

it's always an honor to receive an invitation to the palace, so I have no doubt that Mai and Ty Lee will be allowed to visit, but considering that nobles usually want at least a day to prepare, I'm glad that Azula didn't ask me to deliver the invitations in person. I dictate the letters to the scribes from memory, the words familiar after many repetitions, then send them on their way by way of another page outside the scribe's room.

And with that, I find myself at loose ends for the next couple hours. Even with Azula's orders to have dinner with Aoi, there's now a large chunk of time that I have entirely to myself.

Or, well . . . the first time Azula gave me unaccounted for time was the first day she attended the academy. Normally, personal servants are assigned elsewhere when they aren't needed - and that had always been the case previously - but on her first day of school, Azula had locked eyes with me as she took a folder out from the locked box under her bed, locked the box again, handed me the folder and the key, and told me she wanted a copy of the key.

Going to the locksmith to have a key copied, even in person, doesn't take the six hours that she had given me. Understandably curious, I'd opened the file Azula handed me as I waited for the smith to copy the key. I'd promptly slammed it shut as soon as I realized that I was reading the notes from her private history lessons.

The first couple lines I skimmed over were enough to convince me that reading them could get me killed. I waited for the locksmith to finish the key, heart beating, feeling like I couldn't breathe, scared I'd drop the folder and someone would realize just what I was holding. I locked the notes away again as soon as I got back to Azula's room.

I'd tried to hand her both keys when she arrived back from school, but she'd only accepted one.

"How did the Fire Nation first unite?" she asked as she wrapped my fingers around the key the locksmith had made.

"I - I don't know," I stammered, frightened because I did know, the answer had been in the first line of Azula's notes.

"A spirit storm of the dead ravaged the battle field, and those who wanted to fight were killed or frightened into peace," Azula said, eyes sharp. "Who was the first Fire Lord?"

"Ryuunosuke," I reply after a moment, and Azula leaned forwards, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"There is no second key."

Then she turned away and left my fingers wrapped around the key as she asked what her dinner plans were.

I'm still not sure what possessed her to do it, or why she has kept giving me more time than I need for simple tasks, but after that, she never gave any indication anything was happening - other hours of extra time. I don't know why she trusts me with this information, page upon page of proof of the Fire Nation's dirty deeds that pile up until it's obvious that the Fire Lord wasn't even paving the road to hell with good intentions, no matter what he said. She's seen me waver from her side for her brother, and if there's one thing she hates most of all, it's people who choose her brother over her.

I shake my head to pull myself out of my thoughts as I quietly enter Azula's bedchamber and lock the door behind me.

I pull out my keyring as I approach the bed and kneel beside it, the key to the lock box just one of the dozens I keep.

()

"I hope I'm not interrupting," I say from the door of the small outdoor garden in the center of Aoi's suite.

"Hikari!" Aoi exclaims, already waving me in. "You're not interrupting at all."

"Aoi was just telling me about all of the books he got his hands on that he could never find back in the colonies," Gouro says, somehow managing to sound perfectly polite even as his unexpressed exasperation comes through loud and clear.

"You like the critical analysis too!"

"I'm not the one trying to figure out how to write, thank you."

"You said you liked my writing!"

"I said I was glad for the break from it."

"Hikari, you like my writing, don't you? You'll miss it when I leave next week, right?"

"You're going home?" I ask, as if the topic hadn't been the topic of gossip for the past week.

Both Aoi and Gouro give me identical looks of disbelief, and I manage to hold my serious expression for a moment more before I break into laughter.

"I'm kidding, kidding," I say, waving a hand in their direction.

"Good," Aoi says. "I'd be rather worried if you weren't because for the past week, it's all that people have been able to talk about." He pauses to take a bite of the mostly forgotten food in front of him before continuing in a falsetto. " _Oh, did you hear? One of the princess's suitors is leaving, even though she's not engaged yet._ Hmph. Embarrassing - for them. Do they not have lives of their own?"

"Why talk about their lives when ours are infinitely more entertaining?" I asks, sympathetic to his grumbling even though I'm mostly immune to the rumors after so many years of them. "But I didn't come to talk to you about rumors. I was wondering if you would keep sending drafts of your writing after you left."

Aoi pauses momentarily, his chopsticks between his mouth and his bowl, a strange expression on his face as he finishes and chews. He'd asked me to read his works in the past, and while they weren't the worst writing I'd ever encountered, I'd told him rather frankly that they were very low on the list of things if want to waste my time on.

Gouro had lowered his chopsticks and was now staring at me. He'd been there when Aoi had asked what I really thought.

The thing is, while his writing isn't the most entertaining - he hasn't quite figured out plot - he is very good at describing settings, people, and the general attitude of a population, and everyone at this table knows it.

"I'd be happy to!" Aoi exclaims after a moment. "Tales of the Midnight Figure was your favorite work, right?"

That's his longest work - a collection of poems about the lives of various people in his city.

There's a wry twist to his smile as I nod, but he doesn't resist when I turn to other topics - such as which works of literary analysis had caught his eye.

The evening wears on as I talk about the literary works I know, and listen to Aoi wax passionate about the ones I don't, Gouro occasionally throwing in a dry comment and pulling Aoi into short arguments. The sun was down for hours when I finally make my way through the hallways and slip past Fuyuko into Azula's room.

I find Azula still awake, working on something at her desk by the light of a lantern.

"How was dinner?" she asks, sounding almost absent as I walk to her closet and start to pull out her bed clothes, but when I turn around, she's set down the brush and turned to watch me.

"It was nice," I say, moving to lay out the clothing on her bed. "Aoi promised to send me more drafts of his writing, so I've got those to look forward to, but otherwise, he's good at keeping the conversation going. How was your evening?"

"Alright," Azula says. When I look up, she's cleaning her brush and her inkwell is capped. "Mai and Ty Lee were interesting as always, but not much else seems to be happening right now."

She stands, leaving the paper she had been working on out to dry, then pauses thoughtfully. "It's been a year now, hadn't it?"

A year since her cousin died.

A year since her grandfather died.

A year since her father was crowned Fire Lord, and became even more distant.

A year since her mother disappeared, presumed dead.

A year since her uncle disappeared, presumed dead.

A year since her brother disappeared, presumed dead.

It's been a year since she lost every single one of her family members.

"Yes. A year," I say, because I don't know what else to do. Azula shakes her head and turns to walk towards me. She silently lets me help her out of her day clothes and into her night clothes, then sits on the edge of the bed so that I can brush her hair.

She seems almost lost.

When I finally tuck her in, she looks tiny and pale in the huge expanse of her crimson bed.

She doesn't look like the only heir to a genocidal dictatorship. She doesn't look like someone who is ready for marriage. She doesn't look like someone who has begun to build their own spy network.

She looks like a child.

"Good night, Princess," I say quietly as I pick up the lantern and make my way to the door that leads to my room.

"Goodnight, Hikari," Azula says, and I shut the door, leaving her in darkness.

()

(That night, when I run through the woods to meet with Kiran and Minato, the first thing they do is tell me I don't have to do anything.

It's an odd feeling to not have expectations placed on me. The Fire Nation seems to have forgotten just how young Azula is, and with every year they add to her in their mind, the more she relies on me. It's nice to be treated my own age for once.)

()

"Would you happen to have tea for your favorite niece?"

Azula's words are an echo of Iroh's words a month earlier, and I can't help but wonder if Iroh's smile is at the sight of her or at her echoing his words back to him.

"Azula! You left court so quickly, I thought that you had a lesson!" Iroh says. "Of course I have tea for you. It's a beautiful brewed jasmine from Yujin, if that's to your taste."

"It is," Azula says, ignoring Iroh's comment on the speed of her departure as she calmly moves into the glade. The comment implies many things about Iroh's skills of observation after a month in the palace and after looking at Azula, who is obviously no longer dolled up in the complex finery required of the princess at court. None of the things implied are complimentary. The statement is a retreat, a concession, and it makes me nervous because this is not how the royal family fights, this is not how the royal family has conversations. It may have been a year since there was more than Azula and Ozai, a year since there was more than silences and snubbing, but I know how the royal family talks, and they do not retreat before the fight starts.

Kaito - the boy who had been assigned as Iroh's personal servant upon his return to the palace in the absence of Iroh's old personal servant - quickly has two places set for Azula and me. Iroh commanders the teapot before Kaito can reach it, and there's a momentary battle of the wills between them - resigned amusement on Kaito's side, and passionate on Iroh's side - before Iroh pours tea for Azula and me.

I don't say anything, can't say anything, wouldn't dare because this gesture, too speaks on so many levels -

(Fire Nation nobility do not serve tea - to do so is to say that you are lower than the one you serve the tea to, is to say that you serve them, and the nobility will never say that. They don't even serve tea to the Fire Lord.

But I know that in the Earth Kingdoms, the host is the one who serves the tea. In the Earth Kingdoms, to serve another is to prove that you have money, to prove that you are better than them, that you can bear the cost of the meal.

I don't know which level is worse, because I had thought that the rumors of Iroh serving all of his guests were just that - rumor - but if a prince of the Fire Nation serves its nobles, would it be better for him to say that he serves them, or for him to silently declare that he is Earth Kingdom, that their customs are better.

(The Fire Nation wasn't always like this, according to Azula's lessons. The Fire Lord used to serve tea to anyone because a leader's role is to serve their people. They don't mention when the custom twisted.))

Kaito offers me a lopsided smile from under his bangs as I settle myself onto the cushion across from him, but it slips down his face when he glances at Iroh.

My eyes catch on the brightly colored objects on the table when Iroh sets the pot down and his sleeves are no longer covering them, and my eyes flicker to Azula. This, too, is like a month ago - tension in the line of her hand as she takes her first sip in the not-quite-silence that is traditional.

Behind me, I can hear the crunch of Fuyuko's footsteps as she prowls across the courtyard. From beyond the wall that makes up one side of this small clearing, I can hear the chatter and splashing water of the laundry (Is he here to listen to them? I can make out Kyo's voice clearly as she talks with some of the other servants about Lady Ume's latest indescresssions with her husband's sister.)

Then Azula sets the cup down and smiles. "A lovely cup of tea. From Yujin you said?"

"Yes," the prince replies with a nod and a smile. "It was a great pleasure to find - so rare that Isamu put a ban on exports."

Another weakness revealed - if there's a ban on exports, then this tea shouldn't be here. I lift the cup to my lips again.

"You wouldn't have happened to get those dragon scales from Yujin as well?" Azla asks, leaning forward to nod at the colorful pile on the table. "I wasn't aware that Isamu's father had any scales left after he made that ridiculously gaudy armour."

Her words are an attack, a test of Iroh's defences. Yuuma, the former lord of Yujin, was certainly the last acknowledged person to kill a dragon, but the dragon he had killed was green shading towards yellow - nothing like the blue and red scales on the table. More than that, even though dragons are now considered just game to hunt down, dragon scales have never lost their lucky reputation. Iroh either stole the scales or killed the dragon, but either way something should have been announced and there wasn't a whisper of either.

Iroh picks up his cup, smiles, and I know that smile. That's the smile Azula gives when she twists truths into lies. It's the smile Azula uses every day now, manipulating expectations, misleading, redirecting.

"Of course I didn't get these from Yuuma," Iroh says, picking up one of the red scales and rubbing it with his thumb like a worry stone for a moment before presenting it to Azula. "I killed these dragons myself. Almost sad, really. They were last of their kind."

Azula doesn't take the scale. Her eyes narrow as she stares across the table at her uncle. I stare at the scale in front of me. It's the first time I've been this close to a dragon scale, and there's an interesting pattern on the surface, a shimmering iridescence that catches the light, and _you don't just hand dragon scales out_.

"What do you want?" Azula demands.

"Well," Iroh says, reaching out to take one of Azula's hands and gently uncurling her fingers so he can place the scale on her palm, "right now, you are the only candidate to inherit the throne."

I'm not looking at her, I'm looking at Kaito, sipping his tea with the resigned air he'd had when Iroh poured the tea, but I know Azula, and I know that her eyes will be flat if I look at her. No longer annoyed, no longer resigned, just flat.

She knows that she's the only candidate to inherit the throne, and she hates that fact. There's no one to prove herself against, no way to tell if she truly is the best candidate. She will be - has been - protected, coddled, and urged to provide more heirs, to marry and provide the nation that security, even though she's only nine.

"You are also my niece," Iroh continues, folding Azula's fingers around the dragon scale. "And I may have neglected my duties in the past, but I do care for you. This is the least I can do."

Azula's eyes narrow, but Iroh doesn't say anything else as he sits back, releasing her hand.

I absently note that he never did say what he wanted.

"Thank you for the tea, uncle. Fuyuko, Hikari, let's go."

There's still the afternoon and dinner to get through. There are still a hundred smiles Azula will have to give, still lies and false praise.

And Azula will smile. She will let sand pretend to be softer than she is, and she will leave early to go over Aoi's latest letter with me.

She's used to being second best, and after a year of it, she's used to being the only choice.

And when everything else is done, all papers locked away, her hair down, and all but one candle blown out, she will cry into my shoulder because I'm the only one who dares to hug her.

And even I haven't told her everything.


	8. Look For Broken Bars:Nishiyama

Fact: My first memory is the sight of some boy's back as he walks away from me - chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a heartbeat.

Memory: Beat beat. Beat beat. Beat-

Fact: I live in Nishiyama, probably the second town the Fire Nation conquered when they first set out to colonize the Earth Kingdoms. We've straddled the line between Fire and Earth for nearly a century, instisting staunchly that we were one of the other. Something was bound to bend.

Fact: My Uncle Ayumu has been sick for as long as I can remember. I don't know where my parents and Aunt Ume get the money to pay his medical bills.

Fact: I've dreamt of an airbender who lives in the Fire Nation (chin up, eyes dancing, always moving) for what I'm sure is longer. Her name is Akane, and she tells me incredible tales about the spirits she meets, tells me about the world, tells me about myself. When I grow older, I sometimes think I should hate her for it.

Memory: ("You're not fire," she tells me as we climb the volcano.

"What?"

"You're not fire," she says, pausing and waving the hand that isn't holding onto the rock of the mountainside."You don't walk like fire."

"If I'm no fire, then what am I?" I ask, and she frowns at me.

"That's for you to find out.")

Fact: When I'm four, I stomp a foot, screaming. I don't remember why. I just remember the way rocks flew out of the ground, remember the way my mother's face goes pale, remember the visit to Agni's shrine the very next day. They don't let me play with Shu any more.

Fact: When I'm four, my father starts taking me out to the forest. Supposedly it's so that we can collect herbs for the doctor so Uncle Ayumu's medicine is less expensive. When we're deep enough, my father teaches me how to dance as I move the earth. I asked him once why he wasn't teaching me how to fight. He asked me, _Why destroy when you can create?_

Fact: When I'm six, Akane tells me that her whole island is plotting to overthrow the Fire Lord. At first it's just a slip. I keep asking. Afterwards, she tells me I'm too curious for my own sake.

Fact: When I was eight, my teacher has us write and mail letters to relatives we don't live with. When I go home to ask my parents, they reluctantly tell me about my cousin Nuan, who went to work at the Fire Lord's palace (chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a heartbeat. They don't tell me that.).

Memory: _. . . they say you're working to help Uncle Ayumu. Thank you. Well, he's your father so maybe I don't need to say that, sorry. He's a bit of a grouch, but they put him on new medicine lately, and I think he's been doing better because he told me more about you than the others. I don't really remember you, but I think - never mind . . ._

Fact: Nuan writes back. He has beautiful calligraphy, and the bottom right corner of his letter has a painting of Honoiro's volcano. Aunt Ume and Uncle Ayumu cry when they see it. (He tells me that he's the personal servant to Prince Lu Ten. I don't tell them that.)

Fact: Akane (chin up, eyes dancing, always moving) laughs when I tell her who my cousin is. When I ask why, later, she tells me it was laughter or tears, and she'd rather laugh. She tells me rather calmly, _we have plans to kill him you know. If we ever need to control Prince Lu Ten, we'll go after Nuan._

Fact: We keep writing.

Memory: Sit down, pull out paper, pull out inkwell, unseal inkwell, pull out brush, dip brush, write, wait to dry, seal with candle wax, take it to the post office, watch it get thrown into a basket full of other letters.

Fact: When I'm ten, the price of Uncle Ayumu's medication increases, and the _I don't know how they pay_ turns into desperate _we can't pay like this_. My father takes out a loan, but it's not enough. I start going around town, doing odd jobs for money. I become a familiar face, and soon the police turn a blind eye when they see me out working when I'm supposed to be in school. Everyone one the town knows exactly what's happening. My father takes out more loans.

Fact: Just before I turn eleven, Uncle Ayumu has a series of good days. He manages to stand, and with Aunt Ume's help, limps outside to sit in the sun.

Face: On my birthday, I wake to Aunt Ume's scream. She woke up next to him, his skin room temperature.

Memory: There's a Fire Sage talking about Agni and loss as we scatter ashes to wind over the river, and all I can think is that I don't want to be cremated. It takes effort at the moment not to _shift_ and _shift_ and sink myself into the earth until I feel solid until I feel like I have something to stand on to prop myself up against. I tell my mother, later. She doesn't grow pale anymore, just resigned. She says, _yes, of course_. My father sends me out to the forest on my own. The doctor pays us for the herbs now.

Fact: The debt collectors come calling. Even though I've dropped out of school entirely, my odd jobs aren't paying enough. I would have stopped writing Nuan to save postage long ago, if my father hadn't gotten an odd look in his eye when I mentioned it, and told me I didn't need to think about that. I know what he's thinking - that if nothing else, he can give me this. Postage isn't expensive.

Fact: I can earthbend. We're near enough to Earth Rumble 9 that I can easily catch a ride there and back, even in the middle of the night. My first night fighting, I get more beat up than I bargained for, but the pay is as good as I could have wanted.

Fact: Akane hates it. I show up late to the dream that night, my black eye already beginning to show, and she flutters around me. Her lips are thin, but she doesn't say a word, just tells me how to treat each and every one of my injuries.

Memory: ("If this is what it takes-" I tell Akane, silent Akane, no laugh in sight. "If this is what it takes-"

"If this is what it takes, you'll do it until forever. I know, you stupid rock," she mutters. Her head in on my stomach as we both stare at the sky. "I know.")

Fact: When I return, cautiously, I have fans. I'm a girl, and girls don't fight in the Earth Kingdoms, but this isn't proper Earth society, it's been Fire too for almost a century, and who doesn't like the underdog? I'm escorted up to see the manager, who tries to talk me into signing a contract. Only Nuan's words in the back of my head keep me from accepting right away. I take a copy of the contract home afterwards to study it with my parent's help. I find several things I know I shouldn't sign away - but we need the money desperately.

Fact: In my dreams, Akane's lips thin as she listens to me list conditions, and she asks for the the first time - _what if I sent money?_ She tells me - _school isn't that important, fighting isn't important, your name on the other hand . . . If he knows who you are, he has your future, even beyond the contract._ It would be a moment of truth. Does she really exist? Is the impossible real - are there airbenders still alive, living within the Fire Nation?

Memory: My father plays the drum for me to dance to in the woods, and earth flies into the air around me.

Fact: I'm an earthbender, from firebending blood. The impossible has already happened. I tell her not to anyways.

Fact: The manager is happy when I (chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a drum beat) offer him the signed contract after my fight. There's blood dripping out of my nose as he signs on the bottom line and files it away. I think, hazily, as he hands me my signing bonus and tonight's money, that I should be lying down. Not sleeping - though gods, I feel so tired. _Where is your home?_ someone asks. I shake my head. _Where is your home?_

Memory: (I blink at Akane (chin up, eyes dancing, always moving). She's saying something. She sounds worried. Her eyes don't dance. I try to smile for her, ignoring the cracking blood on my lip.

"It's okay," I tell her. "But I need to wake up. There's something - I need to wake up."

"Then wake up." She says something else, "- just come back to me, okay? Come back.")

Fact: I'm less confused when I wake up. Or - no that's wrong. When I wake up, I can focus. I'm home in my bed. I can hear my parents arguing with each other over whether they should get the doctor. The hissing of their voices makes my head pound, and I let out an involuntary groan.

Fact: They don't go to the doctor. My starting bonus goes to pay off one of the loans my father took out, and I spend the week in bed, my headache slowly dying down.

Fact: I don't tell Nuan.

Memory: (Akane pulls me into a hug when I fall asleep again.

"I was so worried," she mumbles into my shoulder as she holds me close and tight.)

Fact: I'm still dizzy when I fight again. I stumble at just the right time, and manage punch my opponent in the gut. It takes a long moment to understand what's happening when the crowd cheers. I'm taken out fairly easily in the second fight, but the manager hands me a bonus for winning my first fight.

Fact: The debts my family has to pay off are many, but Earth Rumble 9 pays well. I'm fifteen when the last of the loans are paid off. With the sudden lack of debt, the family seems to have so much more money. The latest contract I signed with Earth Rumble doesn't finish for a year so I need to keep fighting, but I no longer need to take the odd jobs around town anymore just to help make ends meet.

Fact: With nothing else to do during the day, I return to school under the watchful eyes of the police officers. I missed five years of school, so I get put into a class with the eleven-year old kids. I walk in there (chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a drum beat) and ignore the whispers.

Memory: ("School isn't that important if you need to do something else to live," Akane tells me as she shows me how to cast a fishing net. "But if you can, then take it. Learn everything you can - take advantage of everything free that you're given.")

Fact: I'm seventeen, ready to be free of Earth Rumble 9, stopping to say goodbye to the manager on my way out when he smiles. _You're not leaving_ , he says. Shadows loom behind me, the two top fighters blocking my path to the door as the manager slides a contract towards me and sits back, smiling. _You make far too much profit for me to let you go._

Fact: He knows who I am. Where I live. Who my parents are. All he has to do is snap his fingers, and . . .

Fact: He has my mom here, terrified, and I'm nowhere near his best fighter. I'm nowhere near good enough to get myself free, but I would have tried. With my mother as leverage . . .

Memory: (I glare at the manager as he taps the contract on his desk, an inkwell and brush already set out for me to use.

"Why do you want me so badly?" I ask through gritted teeth as I pick up the brush. "I only win about half the time."

"You said it yourself, once. People like to cheer for the underdog," the manager says calmly. "And with you, they even have a chance of winning. Sign the contract."

If I sign it, he won't let me go. If I sign it, he'll have a right to me, a right to demand that I fight, a right to use my name. If I sign it, it's legal.

My mother makes a sound behind me.

If I don't sign, they might break her fingers one at a time. I grit my teeth and set the brush to paper.)

Fact: Akane isn't surprised. There's nothing for her to fuss over tonight, so we sit together on the roof of my home with blankets, looking up at the stars. (I don't tell Nuan.)

Fact: I keep fighting. My family doesn't have the money to run, and I can survive. I stick around after delivering herbs to the doctor one day, and he asks me if I still need an apprenticeship. Tells me I already know the herbs better than any other idiot kid around here. Compliments my steady hands. It's another contract signed, but it feels good to help people.

Fact: I sign again at nineteen. My father's terrified panting echoing in the dead air of the manager's office.

Memory: ("Let me tell you a story," Akane says one day. She's looking over some papers she won't let me see - probably war reports her island stole in their quest to weaken the Fire Nation.

"Once, a boy sold his future to help his father. He didn't mean to sell all of it, but he sold his name too, and that was enough to leash him."

"I'm a girl."

"It wasn't about you, stupid, it was about your cousin. Think for a moment, they're not about to let the personal servant of their prince go quit whenever he wants to."

"And yet you still have plans to kill him."

"Yes, but this is war, Rei. It's not about him.")

Fact: I receive only one letter from Nuan after I turn twenty. It explains, shortly, that he's being sent off to fight at the front line. That he won't have consistent access to messengers. It doesn't say that he won't write again. After the first month without a reply, I hire a hawk. It returns without a reply, but I know he's not dead. He can't be dead. They'd tell us right? (There are water stains in the margins. One two, one two, one- blurring the ink where they bleed too close.)

Fact: Apparently I'm good for more than just my steady hands and my ability to recognise herbs, even though I was apprenticed a couple years late. Tu the doctor started making me ask the questions and diagnosing the patients. He stays in the room watching, occasionally offering up a comment or prompting me to ask further, but unless I have no idea what's happening or I get something wrong, he doesn't say a word. After a month, he starts sending me home with his books and instructions to memorize this page or that section

Fact: Akane is amused and relieved when I tell her. _I was worried when you left school,_ she says. _You needed the money, but you can't fight and do odd jobs forever._

Memory: (Tu the doctor grumbles and laughs as we go through his books while the office is empty of patients.

"It tells you to use leeches?" he asks incredulously. "Seriously? Let me see that!"

He hunches over the book in the light coming in through the open window, squinting, then hands it back to me with a huff. "Wow. Kid, that's another mistake. Don't use leeches. I can't think of any situation where they actually help."

"Alright. The next thing is willow bark."

". . . What's it say it's good for?"

"Headaches. I've seen you make willow bark tea you know."

"Yeah, that's right. Hey, first thing in this book!")

Fact: I don't sign at twenty one. Wait - sorry, I should backup a bit.

Fact: Three months after my twenty first birthday, I open the front door in the morning to find a pile of rags. No. Not rags.

Memory: (I nudge the pile of rags and it groans, rolling over to reveal a face.

"Rei?" it asks.

Later, at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea, freshly washed and in an old set of his father's clothes (shoulders hunched, back bowed, fingers fluttering like a bird's wings), Nuan just sort of stares at me. (When he'd followed me in, he'd wandered. There was no _one two, one two, one-_ of feet on the floor.)

"Sometimes, I thought you weren't real," he says. And, "Agni, you're so tall."

"Why'd you come back?"

His face crumples and he slumps forward even further. "It's my fault. I wasn't there to protect him because I was trying to protect myself."

"What happened?"

Slowly, hesitantly, "I'm an earthbender."

Chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a heartbeat - that probably should have been a sign. I huff, then laugh. I can't stop laughing. Nuan watches me with wonder, like he's never seen anyone laugh before. I stop laughing.)

Fact: I bring Nuan with me to Tu the doctor. My long lost cousin showing up at my door isn't good enough of a reason to miss work - especially since I'm apprenticed to a doctor. I push him into a seat at the clinic and check him under Tu the doctor's watchful eyes.

Fact: He's not malnourished. There's nothing wrong with him physically. But something about him makes my skin itch. It's not his body, and it's not his eyes on me, watching in wonder. I tell Tu the doctor this while we're in the back room, and he hums. Then because he knows too much; _When's the last time he bent?_

Fact: I knew something was wrong, but I didn't see it. I didn't want to - you don't just not bend.

Memory: (I want to yell at him because he keeps refusing and refusing - and Tu the doctor gave voice to the possibility, but I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him.

Nuan's just shaking his head, over and over again, his arms pulled tight to his sides, and I just stand there. I just watch him.

This is my cousin. He's older than me. (He's supposed to be stronger. Supposed to be chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a heartbeat. Not . . . not this.)

I stare blankly at his clothes. His father's clothes, Uncle Ayumu's clothes. The shirt's a nice bright red, shading towards orange. It was Uncle Ayumu's favorite shirt, the one he wore on his good days, when he could walk on his own. He was wearing it when Tu the doctor told us there was nothing else he could do.

My lips tighten.)

Fact: I drag him home. He didn't bend that day, and in the end, it's not like I can really make him. Aunt Ume goes pale when she sees him. It isn't until she whispers Uncle Ayumu's name that I look back and realize . . .

Fact: I can't remember Uncle Ayumu without grey hair and stress lines, but if I had, I imagine he would have looked much like Nuan does. Aunt Ume starts crying, and Nuan, still overwhelmed from the woods, starts crying, and I end up with both of them clinging to me and two wet shoulders after a long, heart stopping moment where _I don't know what to do, Agni, what do I do?_

Fact: My parents are - thankfully - not as emotional. My father cries a bit, but they're silent tears as he helps my mother make dinner. Aunt Ume sits silent and pale at the table, going over our money and budgeting, occasionally glancing over at Nuan where he's huddled in the corner. I sit next to him as I mend clothes - the only odd job I'd kept after the loans were paid off. My skin still itches.

Fact: Akane is thoughtful when I tell her, then annoyed. She kicks the ground, sending a visible ripple of wind flying away from us, then insists on getting a piggyback ride. I don't mind. We're about the same size, but she doesn't really feel that heavy. _I want to come to you_ , she mumbles into my hair. _But I'm not allowed to leave the island for my own safety._ I want to tell her to leave anyways so that I can see her, so I can see that I'm not crazy for knowing her, but I remember the story she told me about Nuan. She's just as trapped by her bending as I am by contracts and threats, but at least I chose this.

Memory: (The itching on my skin from the knowledge that Nuan is refusing to bend drives me out into the woods more than usual. Tu runs out of herbs for me to collect after the first day, so I take to gathering firewood as an excuse instead.

Nuan follows me into the forest on the fourth day. I ignore him as I make my way through the forest until we're deep enough in that no one should come across us. He watches as I set down the straps for collecting the fire wood and move towards the center of the clearing. I close my eyes and set my feet. When I start to bend, the movements are slow.

Slow and steady, I lift the earth around me. I can hear Nuan's breath hitch from the edge of the clearing, but I ignore it. I take my steps (chin up, back straight-) to the remembered sound of the (steps as steady as a) drum beat, and I turn slowly, step by step wandering.

This isn't like fighting in the arena. This is how I learned to bend, not as a show of aggression, but as a dance. My father doesn't come out to play for me as I do this anymore, but that's alright because the sound of my feet on the earth is enough to set the rhythm for my ears.

The sound of another set of feet scuffing the ground makes me open my eyes a little. Nuan is watching me carefully, trying to mimic the way I'm moving. Small rocks swirl around his feet with his jerky movement tension practically bleeds off of him as his movements slowly become a little smoother, his feet more rhythmic.

He doesn't move to the same beat - or even really move much at all - but he's bending.)

Fact: I don't sign on as a gladiator for the Earth Rumble at 21. The manager makes a mistake when he chooses my hostage because I know the Nuan can fight. There's a hand on his shoulder, and the two strongest fighters are there, but in the four years since the manager first told me I was going to sign again, I'd gotten better. Not good enough to fight both of the best fighters alone - even one on one was a bit of a gamble. But. But.

Fact: Nuan is a soldier (when our eyes meet, his back straightens), and Tu the doctor recommended a village to the east where I would be able to train as a doctor under a colleague of his, and all of my family's possessions are packed in preparation for the move. I don't sign at 21.

Fact: Akane grows _radiant_ when she hears, and it feels like I haven't seen her this way in forever, all chin up, eyes dancing, always moving. I hadn't realized how much she worried until the worry was gone, and she was spinning around me, laughing.

Memory: (The cart rocks back and forth slightly. I'm going over the medical books that Tu the doctor sent with us, for lack of anything better to do. My lips twist as I read the all of my notes in the margins. Almost every single entry is marked up or blotted out entirely, with various notes as to the actual uses of the herb.

Beside me, Nuan is running his fingers over the beads I'd sewn into his sleeves, his lips moving silently as he repeat his prayer.

"Do you . . ." I trail off, glancing up to where Aunt Ume and my parents are sitting on the driver's bench. "Do you dream of anyone?"

Nuan pauses, his fingers lingering on his sleeve as he looks up at me, his eyes wary. "What do you mean?"

"There's this girl I dream of, every night," I tell him. I almost expect him to tease me about a crush the way I had when he'd started sending me letter after letter littered with information about one of the other servants at the palace, but if anything, he only grows even more still. "I don't know her when - she only exists in my dreams -"

"But she's more important to you than anything, isn't she?" Nuan asks, frowning at his sleeve. I feel frozen because I hadn't wanted to put it into words, but . . . if I had to choose between her and my family . . . Nuan sighs, and brings his knees up so that he can put his forehead on them. "It happens. You're the third person I've known.")

Fact: Tu the doctor's friend Chao the doctor is more than a little bit insane. No, not insane, she declared me a doctor, so I can't just say things like that anymore. Chao the doctor is eccentric. After about a week of watching me work, she cackled and told me that Tu the doctor must be going senile because I was a perfectly competent doctor in my own right.

Fact: Nuan left about a week after that. I tried to tell him that he didn't have to leave, but he insisted that he was a danger to be close to. He set off towards the south at first light with everything I could get him to take, and a sizable bag of wound treating herbs with written instructions. He still wasn't okay, not in any way, shape, or form . . . but I wasn't about to trap him here. So I let him go (chin up, back straighter, and maybe his steps falter, but he starts again).

Fact: On my twenty second birthday, I shoulder my own pack and leave the village. Chao the doctor told me I could do more good on the move, in a way that she just wasn't able to anymore. She has me swear an oath before I leave. Her eyes are unusually serious as she recites the oath for me entirely first so I know what I'm agreeing to, then line by line for me to swear. The first line is _do no harm_ , and the others are important, but . . . I won't ever fight like I did in the Earth Rumble. I won't ever fight again except to protect, but I hadn't planned to. I've had my fill of fighting for money. I set off to the south (chin up, back straight, steps as steady as a heart beat).


	9. Look For Broken Bars:Beifong Forest

I know four things about myself.

One, I can see spirits.

Two, I'm an airbender.

Three, I'm a burden.

Four, I love the girl that I see in my dreams.

It's not much, is it? I could expand.

I could tell you about the spirits I've seen over the years - the ones who run their fingers through my hair, the ones that watch me from afar, the ones that whisper news and history into my ears. I could tell you how they call me odd, broken, because you aren't supposed to see spirits without looking for them.

I could tell you that according to those spirits, I'm an airbender because when all of the original airbenders were gone, the new ones had to come from somewhere. I could tell you about the way I've stood at the edge of a cliff and leaned into the wind like it was a solid thing. I could tell you about the way it slips through my fingers, dogs at my footsteps, tries to lift me when I look at the sky.

I could tell you that my aunt is the lady of an island that has always been the farthest from the capital, the most forgotten, the closest to the the Southern Air Temple. I could tell you that the Fire Lord has been suspicious of us for what feels like forever because of that closeness, because it would be so easy to hide airbenders. I could tell you that my aunt and my family and my island have been subtly rebelling for the past century because what the Fire Lord has done is _wrong_. I could tell you that even the slightest hint of an airbender on our island would be enough to bring the Fire Lord's men down upon us, enough to disrupt everything.

I could tell you about Rei's laugh, about her family, about the flick of her wrist when she bends, about the rhythm of her feet on the ground. I could tell you about the way she dances, the way she fights, the way she dozes on hot summer days. I could tell you about the way she never seems to notice how my eyes linger on her, on the fall of her hair, on the warm brown of her eyes. I could tell you about the ways she makes me want to stand up and be useful, instead of sitting there.

I won't. I can see spirits, yes, but that sets me apart. I can airbend, yes, but that's because of a genocide. I'm a burden. And the girl I love hasn't noticed I love her.

So, at the age of twenty two, I run away from home. I stow away on a ship to Gaoling with only that much of a plan, and spend the rest of the trip trying to figure out what to do next.

I step off onto Earth Kingdom soil without much of a goal in mind, and wander the streets as the sun sets. Near the docks, vendors line the streets, hawking everything from food to cheap jewelry. A bit farther in, women dressed in clothing more appropriate for the beach on Yujin Island giggle and fan themselves from the shelter of doorways, calling out to passersby. It isn't until the third house, when one of the women winks at me as she asks if I want to dance that I understand what they're doing, and I'm sure I blush a deep, terrible red as I duck my head and hurry quickly away.

The streets are fairly straight, and I reach the edge of town as darkness truly starts to fall. I pause at the gap between the last of the houses and the forest, lit only by the light coming from the windows. My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag as I glance back. Though I can't hear any of the noise from the area near the docks, I can still see the hazy red glow of the lanterns in the distance. The forest, when I turn back to it, looks only cold and lonely. I start towards it anyways.

I listen to tree spirits whispering as I make my way carefully through the trees. They sound . . . different from what I'm used to. At home, the hum of the spirits in the trees is a constant, wavering sound that flickers to the breeze like a candle. Here, the hum pulses like the steady backbeat of a song. It reminds me the songs Rei taught me - the ones that she dances to in the forest.

I settle down on a branch of one of the larger trees, pull my cloak tighter around me, and shift my bag to my lap as I hope for another sleepless night.

There's a reason I took so long to run away, when I'd been thinking about it seriously since I turned fifteen. When I decided that I wanted to run away, I decided that I wanted to run away from everyone - including Rei. It wasn't until a couple weeks ago, when Aunt Kimiko first sent me out to take night watch on the lighthouse that I figured out how to do it.

I'd noticed before that I always arrived in the dreamscape before Rei, and left it before her too, but I'd figured that was just a difference in our personalities or something. Dream sharing seems like something spirits would do to advance their plans, and their plans don't always make sense, take it from someone who can see them. But when I fell asleep the morning after I stayed up all night in the lighthouse, Rei didn't show up at all. And that night, when I went to sleep a little later than normal, Rei hit me like a stampeding bull-moose as she threw her arms around me and knocked me off my feet.

From her frantic questions and the calm she forced upon herself as she checked to make sure I was truly alright, I gathered that I hadn't been in her dream either. From _that_ , I concluded that we were probably only in the dream world when we slept, and if one of us didn't sleep at night, we wouldn't see each other.

The discovery was like slotting the last puzzle piece into place and standing back to look at the finished picture in satisfaction.

I reminded Rei that spirits are strange. I told her that maybe now that we're adults, they think we don't need as much support. I told her that even when she wasn't there, I came to the same dreamscape, so we could probably leave things to tell the other that we'd been there. I didn't tell her I spent the night awake.

I felt horrible. And when I woke up, I made arrangements for a ship to the Earth Kingdoms, then took another night shift, the week after the first, just to make sure. Rei was worried again, but less so this time. She left me a letter, and there was a sour taste in my mouth as I read it.

Another week, and I stayed up through the night, leafing through a book I'd brought with me by candle light as the ship rocked slightly beneath me. The furthest I'd ever been from Suzaku before then was the Southern Air Temple. I watched Yingtao Island as we passed and caught a brief glimpse of the temple between mountains.

A shift in the comforting hum of the trees pulls my attention away from my thoughts. It only takes me a moment to recognise the new pattern. Even though the set rhythm throws the melody off slightly, it's similar enough to the sound the trees took when someone was running through them at home. I peer over the edge of the tree branch, straining my eyes to see through the deep shadows below me. I'm about to pull back, thinking maybe I was mistaken, maybe it means something different here, when a howl freezes me in place.

A dog barks once, twice, coming closer and closer until it appears out of the darkness through a gap in the branches. Not a dog's silhouette, or its shadow, but a dog, lit by an absent light that doesn't affect its surroundings. A dog, wagging its tail as it stares up at me.

(Absently, in the back of my mind, I note that the tree-song has shifted once again. No, it sounds like the melody of welcome that tree spirits sang when I entered the forest back home.)

"Okuri-inu?" I ask hesitantly, half to myself as I clutch my bag close and try to match a spirit tale to the creature before me. It couldn't be a komainu - komainu guard temples, and I'd come far enough into the forest that there probably aren't any temples nearby. Sunekosuri are either invisible or look like cats, its hair doesn't look long enough for it to be a keukegen, and it really just doesn't look like a tanuki.

The dog barks again and runs in a small circle before stopping facing me. It tilts its head and _leaps_ much farther and much higher than any dog has the right to leap. I abruptly find myself with a lap full of dog, and I have to scramble to grab my bag with one hand and the scruff of the dog's neck with my other hand as it balances precariously on my legs and sticks a wet nose into my neck.

The okuri-inu lets out a high whine, then goes limp in my grip when it finds it can't move me, and obediently stays still when I let it go. I carefully put my bag behind me and pull the straps over my shoulders before I lean back against the tree again. _Then_ I pet the dog. It lets out a lower whine and sticks its nose into my midriff as its tail starts to wag, nudging at my sash. I shake my head and dig into the folds obligingly to pull out the bag of jerky.

"Do you want some of this?" I ask, holding the back above its head. The dog lets out a low whine, its tail going still and its head tilting back to watch my hand, then a short bark. I smile and pull a piece of the jerky out of the bag and let the dog pull it from my hand a I tuck the bag back into my sash.

"You're a good dog, aren't you?" I ask, running a hand down the dog's back as it gnaws on the jerky, its wagging tail bumping my legs occasionally.

I know I should probably be more frightened - half the stories about okuri-inu are about them eating people who trip, and about how they're such malevolent spirits that they frighten off all the lesser malevolent spirits - but I'm not walking around right now, so I can't trip, and I've got no problems with it frightening off other spirits at the moment, seeing as I am in the middle of the forest, at night.

I watch it tear at the jerky for a while, content to wait and see if it wants anything else, but when it grows tired of the slobbery jerky, it just glances up at me and paws at my tunic.

"Do you want me to try to recite Dragons Over Honoiro?" I ask on a whim, and for lack of anything better to do. The okuri-inu lets out a short bark.

"Alright," I say. "So, I think it starts like this: _The Fire Islands have always been known for their . . . heat, and tonight . . ._ "

By the time dawn's light is edging across the sky, I've gone through about four plays. I'd given up on reciting them line for line fairly early on, but I still had a good enough idea of what was happening in all of the scenes to make up my own words mocking the writer and the general idea of the play. The okuri-inu seems to like my versions of the plays because its tail wags hard enough to shake both of our bodies whenever I manage a particularly vicious mockery.

I was winding down the tale of Omashu when the okuri-inu froze in my lap. I pause in response and look down at it. "What's wong?"

I hear the voice calling this time, though I can't make out the words, and the okuri-inu lets out a low whine as it looks up at me.

"Do you . . . want to go?" I ask, and it lets out a short bark. "Then go ahead."

It lets out another bark, then jumps off my lap and the branch to land of the ground, where it immediatly darts off with another loud bark. This time, I can make out the cry of, "Little sister! There you are!"

I feel a faint smile cross my face as I stare out into the forest. The smile slips as I glance up, trying to gauge the time. I'd had a few slip ups on the ship here as we traveled east and the sun rose just a bit earlier, and I wasn't keen to repeat the experience of hiding in the dream scape and watching Rei stare sadly at the ocean.

Besides that, I still have to go find some cave or make myself a shelter that's dark enough that I actually can get to sleep. I've found myself increasingly grateful over the past couple of weeks that airbenders didn't feel any obligation to be awake at any particular time, because if I'd been a firebender, my whole plan to avoid Rei would have been toast.

(If I'd been a firebender, there wouldn't have been a plan because I wouldn't have been a burden on my aunt and a danger to the revolution.)

"Thank you for taking care of my little sister for the night," someone calls from below, and I glance down from the sky to see a barefoot little boy in a badly-dyed mottled green tunic with leaves tangled in his hair holding the okuri-inu. He's probably a spirit too, but even though I haven't done much all night, I feel too tired to figure out what kind. "She's still rather young, and while many of the spirits around here recognise her, I'm always worried that some human will come along and kill her."

"I'm a human," I reply, feeling a bit off balance.

The boy only brightens at my words. "Oh! You must be one of Makani and Era's new brood, then." He looks me over critically, and I resist the urge to pull my cloak tighter around me.

"My. If they blessed all of their new benders like this . . . Well, in thanks for taking care of my sister, I offer a reward. Ask of me what you wish, and if it's within my power, I shall provide it for you."

I think suddenly about what this must look like from the outside. Some boy in Earth rags was offering to help out a girl in fashionable, if practical, Fire robes. I burst out laughing, laughing until tears are streaming down my face, laughing till I'm not laughing, laughing till I'm sobbing, till I'm wiping the tears away as I try to get a hold of myself.

The boy watches from the ground below with a hint of irritation or impatience. The okuri-inu whines, but she doesn't try to get out of the boy's grasp. When my crying finally dies off, and I'm just sitting on the tree branch, breath trembling, eyes covered, he repeats himself. "Ask of me what you wish, and if it's within my power, I shall provide it for you."

There honestly were only three things I could think of to ask for. I could ask to only see spirits in the way normal people do, I could ask to no longer be an airbender, or I could ask that Rei notice that I love her.

I am who I am because I can see spirits and airbend. To lose either of those abilities wouldn't make everything better. Even if I couldn't bend or see spirits, I'd done things to protect myself that I can't take back. To give up my abilities would make those sacrifices feel cheap.

As for getting Rei to notice me . . .

Yeah, she might return my feelings. But I'd never know - it would always feel like she wouldn't love me for me. It would all be because of someone else, and as much as I want her to see what I feel, I want her to love me because of me.

"It's fine," I say before I catch myself and repeat the formal words that the spirits of Suzaku had coaxed me into learning. "There is nothing I wish of you, nothing I would wish for that I truly want granted. I release you from any debt."

The boy stares at me. The lack of expressions reminds me of the tengu who guarded the top of Suzaku's volcano. Even on the rare occasion he took human form, Nori didn't really express his emotions that way. It wasn't that he couldn't, just that he wasn't used to having a face that could move, so he forgot to make expressions. "If there is nothing, then at least allow me to feed and shelter you for the night, and to point you to a place that offers something you might desire."

I hesitate, but it's not like I have much else to do. "If you would have me, I would like that. Just give me a moment to climb down."

()

The boy brings me to a cave deep in the forest, the okuri-inu following on our heels. He serves me a breakfast of berries, oat-rice bread, and hummingbee honey. When I'm done eating, he takes me deeper into the cave and presents me with a dark room and a bedroll to sleep on.

I waste my time in the dreamscape the same way I've been wasting it since I left, avoiding the question of what exactly I'm going to do with myself now that I've actually run away, and building little stick houses for Rei so that she knows I'm still alive.

I feel listless when I wake up, and it takes me a while before I summon up enough willpower to climb out of the warm bedroll. The boy is sitting next to the fire once again, ladling something from the pot into two bowls, and he motions for me to sit on the cushion next to him. He passes me the bowl and a pair of chopsticks before he picks up his own bowl. I mutter a thanks and a quick prayer before I start in on the food - a stew of some sort with chunks of meat and vegetables floating thick in the broth. The boy takes the bowl when I'm done and sets it on a ledge to be washed later.

"Come on," the boy says offering me a hand. "I have something to show you."

I glance back at the room with my stuff as I let him pull me to my feet, but I follow the boy when he keeps tugging me towards the entrance of the cave. "Come on."

I hear the okuri-inu scramble after us as the boy leads me out and into the forest. As we walk, I start to feel odd. Sometimes I blink, and the angle of the setting sun or the forest around us changes. Once, for a brief moment, I swear that I see the trees all covered in the bright reds, yellows, and oranges of autumn. Time flows oddly - like molasses or honey - so the only measurement I have is that by the time we stop, it's dark.

The boy pulls me to a stop next to the last tree at the edge of a large field that stretches to the horizon. I blink and rub at my eyes with my free hand as he kneels down to run a hand over the okuri-inu's back, feeling abruptly grounded.

"There," the boy says, finally releasing my hand to point at small collection of tents in the distance, outlighted by the light of a fire. "Tell them the truth, and they will have you gladly. You will not be a burden here."

"What?"

The boy looks up at me, then stands, dusting off his hands. "You were thinking too small when you replied to me earlier. I know what happens when the great spirits just take new benders, I know what you think. You wanted be Fire like your family, or to not bend. You want to be helpful, right?"

"Yes," I reply hesitantly.

"You weren't thinking big enough," the boy says. "Unless you truly only want to help your family, there are other people who would appreciate you help."

I glance over at the tents. "Who are they?"

"People," the boy says simply. Then he turns to point to a tree a bit further back. "Your belongings are there, waiting for you."

He catches my hand again as I move to get my stuff, and I pause. "Before you go, should you ever need help, ask for the tanuki of Beifong Forest." He pauses, then continues softer. "Ask for Guiying."

"That's- you've already done so much for me-" My aunt's words about names come to me. She'd always told me to be careful of what contracts I put my name on because of how easily someone could trick you if you didn't read carefully, and to be doubly cautious about whom I gave it out to because names have a certain power to spirits.

The boy shushes me before I can say anything else. "Just remember."

He drops my hand and turns away, disappearing between one step and the next. I hesitate for a moment, staring at the empty air, before I shake my head and head off to grab my things. I frown as I pick my bag up, weighing it thoughtfully. It's heavier than it was, and even just looking at it, I can see that there's more stuff in it than I remember leaning against last night.

Sure enough, when I pull open the neck of the bag, there's a bag of food on top of the rest of my things, and a couple of loose candles, and a pair of spark rocks. Beneath those, there's an actual bedroll on top of the blanket and tarp I'd brought. I shake my head and carefully pack the bag back up.

The boy - Guiying - gave me so much just for taking care of his sister for one night, and for all that I know that spirits repay debts tenfold . . . spirit tales are about _great_ people, people who would give their life for a stranger, and I am not _great_. I'm barely even good, but I try to be fair, and in all fairness, I don't deserve to have a spirit waiting on my whims.

I shake myself out of my thought as I pull the bag closed and sling it over my shoulder. I square my shoulders and turn on my heel to head towards the tents.

As I draw closer, I can make out a couple of some kind of ostrich animals beyond the tents, and one little girl in Earth Kingdom greens. She glances up as I come closer, and I can see the milky film that covers her eyes.

"Hello," I call gently.

Her head tilts. "Who are you?"

"I - um -" I scramble for a name, "Jin! I'm Jin!"

"That answers just about nothing," the girl replies after a moment.

I open my mouth to speak, then pause, distracted abruptly from my frantic embarrassment by a breeze against the back my neck. My eyes flicker to the still tents. Something's wrong. I throw myself forwards into a roll as someone lunges forwards, arms sweeping into the space where my head had been. I use my airbending to twist myself in midair and land in a crouch facing my attacker.

Before I can do anything however, rocks rush from the ground around me, trapping my feet and running up my body to lock around my arms and trap me in place. I jerk at the bindings for moment, then slump into them when it becomes clear that all I'm doing is wasting energy.

I listen to the crunching footsteps on dry grass, and watch as the boots enter my field of vision. I tense as a hand tilts my chin up. Inscrutable brown eyes stare into mine, reflecting the light of the fire behind me for a moment before my chin is released. I frown at him as he backs up a bit, something familiar about his face bothering me as he glances past me.

"Could you-?"

More footsteps. I strain my head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the new person. Then -

"Nuan," I breathe, turning my head to follow him as he circles around to stand in front of me. There's just enough light from the fire to make out his features, and I hadn't thought -

I'd seen him before from a distance when Lu Ten came to Suzaku to meet his mother's family. I hadn't realized then - he looks _so much_ like Rei for a moment, despite the utter lack of recognition. He has her eyes - the color of hot kaf, fresh from the pot - and her hair - just curly enough that a few strands always escape her top knot to make it look messy - and freckles along the same contours, and her nose-

"Who are you?" he asks, and I abruptly see all of the differences. He's a bit shorter than Rei, and he hunches slightly like he's trying to be even shorter. Though I'd recognised the firmness of his steps, there's no rhythm to dance to and nothing solid - like going to pick up a full water jug only to find it empty. "You wouldn't happen to be from Suzaku, would you?"

I blink at him, but if he's figured out that much, then it probably won't take much for him to figure out the rest. I raise my chin. "I _am_ Akane of Suzaku."

The boy who'd grabbed my chin shifts off to the side, bringing my attention to him for a brief moment before I turn to watch Nuan again. He's staring at me, studying my face.

"Would you be the cousin who was always off on weather watch whenever Lu Ten went to Suzaku?"

"Weren't you declared dead a year and a half ago?" I snap.

"You don't look all that surprised to see me, weather watch. And for that matter, how did you know what I looked like?"

"You didn't think I slept up on the mountain did you?" I reply, ignoring his first sentence.

"Then why did we never see you? I'm sure _Lu Ten_ would have liked to meet his cousin." Nuan's voice dips on the prince's name, making it as much a sob as much as it is an accusation.

I bite my lip and glance away. Behind me, I can hear clothing against clothing as someone shifts. When I speak, there's none of the defiance that was in my voice earlier. "I stayed away for the same reason I'm here now."

"Then why are you here?" Nuan demands. "Why did you leave your safe little island, and why did you come here?"

I scoff. "Safe little island? I'm safer here than I was at home! If Suzaku was safe, why do you think I hid from you? I _wanted_ to meet my cousin! I kept asking my aunt again and again, and you know what? She was going to let me see him the next time he came!"

I break off panting, and let my head fall. "The next day, we got the letter that he was dead. Lu Ten was my only cousin and I never got met him on the off chance that I'd slip up, so don't you _dare_ accuse me of not wanting to see him."

"He was my best friend!" Nuan yells, his hands clenched. "You never even-"

"Nuan, enough," the boy who'd grabbed my chin says abruptly. He rests a hand on Nuan's shoulder and Nuan takes a shuddering breath before stepping back.

"Akane," the boy says, "why are you here? And," his eyes sharpen, "why is it safer for you in the Earth Kingdoms?"

My eyes dart from Nuan to the boy, and I struggle at the stone binding me once again, hoping for just a little bit of give-

I go limp. I glance at Nuan again, still dressed in the reds of Fire, and I hope they know about him, know about his bending, I hope desperately that they know and accept it because maybe-

"I'm an airbender."

-maybe they'll accept me too.

"Oh," someone says behind me, and I fall to the ground as my bonds dissolve.

"Toph-"

"Shut up, Ryung," the blind girl who had greeted me says. She pokes me with her toes as I push myself to my hand and knees. "You. Get up. Walk."

"What?" I ask as I scramble to my feet.

"Walk. I wasn't looking earlier," Toph repeats.

"Why do you-"

Toph pokes me in the side, and I stumble away from her, towards the fire. "Keep walking."

I put my hands up and walk around the fire. The boy - Ryung - watches me. I catch a glimpse of someone else peering from around the edge of a tent before whoever it is notices my gaze and flinches back out of sight. When I've completed a full circle around the fire, Toph motions for me to stop.

"Well?" Ryung asks her.

"She certainly walks like an airbender," Toph says. "Jumps like one too."

"And why it wasn't safer for you to just keep hiding?" Ryung asks, turning to me. "You managed to hide on Suzaku for twenty years."

"It wasn't safe in the first place," I reply sullenly, rubbing at where the stone bonds had chafed my wrists. "Any airbender on the islands would be a sign of Sozin's failure, something to hunt down. Here, at least, I'd just be another refugee."

"Hmm." Ryung's eyes focus on something behind me. When I glance back, there's only the falling tent flap. "How much training do you have?"

"I . . . I don't know. Suzaku's near the Southern Air Temple, and we rescued many of their texts after the army went through, so I had those to learn from. There were also several of the elders who remembered seeing the airbenders back when they were alive and they were able to teach me some, but . . ." I let the sentence trail off.

"Alright. Are you Era's, or Makani's?"

"I don't know?" I hadn't even known that you could be one or the other's if your element had two great spirits. I grew up around firebenders and people of Fire, and there was only Agni for them. I hadn't thought the other elements would be that different. "Is there a difference?"

" _Yes_ ," three voices answer me.

"Oh."

Ryung examines me again, then nods. "Alright then. We'll take you."

"What?" I ask, feeling a little off balance.

"You came here to blend in, right? Well, you can do that better in a group. I'm Zuko," Ryung says, and my eyes widen.

Zuko, as Lu Ten's other cousin Zuko? As in _Prince_ Zuko? Prince Zuko who's been missing for a year and a half?

"And the girl who made you walk around the fire is Toph Beifong," Zuko continues as if the revelation of his name isn't almost earth shattering. "You already know Nuan of course. The last member of our group, however . . ."

"Do you want me to get him?" Toph offers.

I startle at the sound of a short, sharp whistle, and I twist around just in time to see the tent that had been moving earlier bust open as a young boy comes storming out, gesturing wildly.

"Yes, Samir, I-" Zuko is cut off by a sharp whistle.

The boy glares. When Zuko doesn't try to talk again, he glances at me. The fire between us is reflected in his eyes. I watch warily as he rounds the fire to stop in front of me.

He points at me, and behind me, Toph says, "You."

"What?" I ask, half turning to look at her.

"I'm translating for him," she says. "Don't look at me."

I don't quite understand what she means, but I glance back at Samir anyways.

"You," Toph repeats, and I repress the urge to glance back at her. "You're Fire Nation and you know nothing about Era and Makani, but you claim that you can airbend? You claim you know anything about airbending?"

"Samir, that's not fair. How was she supposed to learn anything?" Nuan asks, speaking for the first time since Zuko told him to calm down. I glance at him, uncertain why he's defending me when he was so angry with my earlier. "That's like comparing me to Toph."

That one sentence throws his words abruptly into a different perspective. I'd known he was an earthbender, but if he was seeing me colored by his own mistakes . . .

I don't know if he thinks that he could have done better, that he could have escaped like I did, or if he thinks _I_ could have done better, could have tried to hide better and met Lu Ten.

"You and Toph are different," Toph says, though she sounds a bit uncomfortable. Samir's gestures are less certain. From the expression on his face, he knows that this is a touchy subject for Nuan, but he's not going to back down because he feels that what he's saying is important.

Looking between them, I have a bad feeling. I've seen fights between people over subjects they care about, and they're never pretty. From the way Zuko is shifting, ready to move at any moment, he knows that.

"Why?" Nuan challenges. "Because we're Earth? Because there are so many earthbenders out there right now? Or is it because-"

"I don't really know much about airbending," I interrupt before Nuan can say anything even worse, and all eyes go to me. Slowly, I say, "Bending is an art for the living. You can't truly learn it just from scrolls and a non bender's memories - I _know_ , I tried. Not even just that - airbending is supposed to be about freedom - I know that, I read the scrolls - and I've been trapped the the need to stay hidden all my life. But I _tried_. Okay? I tried."

Samir's shoulders sag, and as Toph pushes past me to wrap her arms around his shoulders, he seems smaller. His anger had inflated him like a puffer squid, and without it, he looks small and lost. He buries his face into Toph's tunic, and just hides from the world.

I shift awkwardly. I'd never known what to do with crying people, but I can't just walk away from this.

"You're an airbender, aren't you?" I ask, if only to break the silence. He has to be - it's the only thing that makes sense. "And you grew up around other airbenders. And . . . they're no longer around."

This, too, is only logical. It's why he knows so much about Air, why the group knows so much about Air, why he's alone, why he's lashing out.

And I don't understand it. I understand why, but I know I don't understand how much it hurts, I don't have the background to understand, but-

 _But_ , I think as he nods into Toph's tunic, _maybe I can learn. The boy - the tanuki of Beifong Forest, Guying - said I would be helpful here. Maybe I can learn enough to understand some of Samir's frustration. Maybe I can be Air in more than just the way I bend, and apparently the way I walk._

I step forwards and bow from my waist. I look up to see the dancing shadows cast by the fire as Samir stares at me, looking confused.

"Samir of Air. I am Akane of - I am Akane." The formal words fall from my lips. There's a gasp from behind me, and somewhere to the right, the sounds on feet on dirt, but neither Toph nor Samir recognise the words. I'm not surprised. They're a Fire tradition, Earth and Air probably do this differently. "I would ask for your patience and understanding, for I am unfamiliar with your ways, but if you are willing, I would like to learn and give knowledge in return."

Samir shifts against Toph, and though he doesn't make any gestures like he had earlier, she speaks. "Learn what?"

"Anything you're willing to teach me."

"And what knowledge do you have to give?" Toph asks, and the words are so close to the ritual that I wonder if maybe Earth's ceremony isn't so different. Even with unseeing eyes, there's something sharp in her gaze. I straighten slowly.

I lay out what I know about airbending again. I didn't bring the scrolls, but I'd memorized the poses. None of the elders who remember airbenders came with me, but I have their advice. In the end, I trail off. This isn't going to be a true ceremony of adoption or apprenticeship or fostering, those are all Fire, but I don't know how to end this.

"Have you ever heard of a fire break?"

"Yes?" I reply hesitantly. "You make them to stop fire from spreading."

Samir's lips thin, and he nods once. I look at him for a long moment, and it slowly occurs to me.

"Is that what you're doing?" I ask, glancing back at Nuan and Zuko. "All four of you? Are you trying to stop the Fire Nation from spreading?"

"We're doing what we can," Zuko says.

I turn back to Samir.

"Well." I think of my home. "Let me tell you about Suzaku."

* * *

 **AN: I forgot to mention, but I've published another fic called By Incremets that has a series of short stories about the characters which are fairly important, but which don't fit into the main chapters.**


	10. Look For Broken Bars:South Western Earth

Fact: Wandering through the desert of the Southern Earth Kingdoms is lonely, even with Akane to talk to at night. I walk with my chin up, my hands herb-stained, steps as steady as a drumbeat.

Fact: I walk into towns with my hat tilted low over my eyes. People see the easy way I talk with their own healers, the way I sit down with them and talk about their food troubles, the way the dirt of their beaten down yards and desecrated gardens is suddenly loose and ready for planting after I've stayed the night. I tell them to plant in the forest, off the trails and on the other side of ridges so the gardens are hard to find. They see the carved Wu Tao's dragon tooth I wear, the symbol of a healer. They don't need to see my brown eyes. I need them to not see my brown eyes.

Fact: I know that I'm not responsible for anything the Fire Nation does. I wasn't born when the whole conquering the world thing started, and even after that, I'm a common colony brat who skipped years of school, it's not like anyone would listen to me. (Akane would. Akane's family has been devoted to making life better for the people that the Fire Nation has wronged. (Akane's family didn't help when the Southern Air Temple burned. They couldn't, but sometimes all I can think about is that they didn't.)) I feel guilty anyways.

Memory: (I weave through the empty streets, going from house to house, from garden to garden, a lantern turned as low as it can get swinging gently from my hand. It's the same wherever I go - the Colonies or the Earth Kingdoms - all the gardens are ruined by soldiers from one side or the other - taken at harvest time or trampled "so the other side won't take it".

I know that even this won't help much. The next patrol will probably undo all of my hard work, but I have to try.)

Fact: The villagers are always kind. Even when all I do is bring medicine from far away or stay the day to gather herbs for an elderly healer, someone always offers me free food, and someone always offers me a bed or floor space inside for me to roll out my bedroll. Other than the whole existential loneliness of the whole thing after a life of being surrounded by people, it's not too bad. I'm getting to travel, and while I tend to see the less glamorous towns and villages as a doctor, people are glad to see me.

Fact: They're not only glad to see me as a doctor, but as a bringer of news. I find myself with letters to stuff into my cabinet at every village, town leaders hunting me down so I can tell them about the nearby villages over dinner. At some point before I leave, I always find myself steered to the local healer's house. There, I'm asked about who I saw on the path in, asked about any signs of patrols. In return, I'm sent off with my stock of herbs restored and information on the best way to reach the next village.

Fact: I ask about the system. It's a very practiced system - and a very consistent one. At first I'm not sure if there is even a system - giving information to the leader is after all what most visitors should do in the smaller villages I find myself passing through, and as a doctor, it's only natural for me to talk to the local healers. But it keeps happening, and it keeps happening constantly and consistently in a way that can't just be coincidence.

Memory: ("What's all this?" I ask, gesturing with a piece of slightly stale bread.

Lin Ming's head tilts. "I'm not sure what you mean. If you're talking about the sausages, the reason I have so many is because I make them."

"Not that." I lean back. "The . . ." I hesitate, searching for the right word. "The whole - the whole system you have set up to squeeze information out of visitors. And not just you, but every village along the coast. Why do you have it? Who taught all of you?"

Lin Ming watches me with a inscrutable expression. "The Fire Nation didn't start out with killing off the Air Nomads. Almost forty years before the war they tried to set up colonies. No one knows why they withdrew or why they started again, twenty five year later. But when they killed the Air Nomads, someone figured they wouldn't stop. So they taught us to protect ourselves."

That's all I learned that day.)

Fact: I picked up more bits and pieces of the story as I followed the coast down. A hundred years ago, a healer went from village to village. They talked with the leaders and the healers and the elders about the attacks on the Fire Nation. Someone thought about the normal people in advance and made steps to protect them from what must have been a distant threat at the time.

Fact: I know the Fire Nation isn't perfect. I know it like children traded for money, like steps that falter, like a bender that won't bend. But I still remember going to school, still remember when we were stretching every penny and they stretched just enough. I remember thinking that we were just unlucky, that if we truly needed help, it would be given. I remember having hope that my people weren't monsters.

Fact: It was lonely, but at least I had Akane. I _had_ Akane. One day she just . . . didn't show up. She was back the next day, all apologetic, but . . . it isn't hard, as she trips over her lies, to figure out what happened. She discovered that when we fall asleep affects when we dream. And in another week she's gone again. And maybe she comes back, but I don't have her. And if that's what she wants . . . I make sure it's fully night before I go to sleep.

Memory: (Sunset dyes the horizon a beautiful brilliant orange and the clouds are streaks of pink. My lips thin as I watch the shadows around me me creep longer and longer. It's the sort of sunset I used to commit to memory to show Akane. Now it's just the indication that I won't see her.

I turn back to the glass bottles of herbs I have spread out in front of me. I glance at my notebook again, tilting it so I can check when I last gathered whichever herb. I rifle through the pages to check the expiration date and glance at the bottles themselves as I note down what I need more of.)

Fact: I'm in Zhou, as far south as you can get while still on the mainland, walking along the water, and trying to place a feeling. I'm between villages and it's getting late so I'll probably have to camp out, and even though I've walked beaches on occasion from Kaiyuan to here, none of them felt familiar, felt like home, felt like _Nishiyama_. They wouldn't. Nishiyama is an inland town. I glance around, and it hits me like the glare of the the setting sun off a dog's eyes in the bushes across from me. Okuri-inu. It feels like I'm being watched by okuri-inu.

Fact: Okuri-inu are nothing new. I've seen them or felt their hungry eyes on me so many times while I was in the forest collecting herbs for Tu the doctor that no trip felt complete without eyes following me out of the forest. The first few times I'd been scared out of my mind and watching my every step. Time taught me confidence though, and as I kept trekking through the same patch of woods, the eyes on my back seemed less angry, less ravenous. I almost forgot that they were out to eat me.

Memory: (It's late enough now that I don't mind setting down for the night. I find a good spot a bit inland to set down my medicine cabinet, and I roll my shoulders, rubbing at the sore muscles. I collect firewood. I don't have to go too far, I just need enough to boil water for my tea because I'm not planning on eating anything more complicated than another mountain cake. The eyes follow me.

I boil water in my beat up old kettle, and I reuse my oolong tea leaves yet again, and the eyes watch me.

Dark has fallen and luminous eyes stare at me from the bush across the clearing as I banks the fire and walk around with a torch to make sure everything's ready for me to settle down. Then I pull out my bedroll and my workbook and I settle down against a tree trunk, the torch thrust into the ground so I have light to work.

(I've been compiling lists of uses for herbs from all of the villages I passed through. Tu the doctor and Chao the doctor were definitely diligent about teaching me, but they couldn't have known everything, and if I manage to compile a large enough database, I might be able to figure out more about what herbs to use and when.)

The sound of something scraping on the ground pull my attention from my book, and I glance up to see a dog (Not a foxdog, not a beardog, not a squirreldog, not even a Komainu liondog like I've heard you can sometimes find outside temples, lounging next to their carved counterparts. It's just a dog) with my food sack in their jaws.

I shoot to my feet, sending my book toppling, half a thought spared to be glad I hadn't written anything in awhile. "That's mine!"

The dog looks up at me with liquid eyes like I'd kicked them, then unrepentantly drags the bag a step further.

I lunge forwards, nearly tripping over the end of my bed roll, and just manage to grab a part of the bag as the dog turns to run. "It's mine!" I tell the dog again, shaking the bag slightly for emphasis. "And I'm not sure when I'm going to be able to buy more, so you can't have it!"

The dog tugs experimentally again, then whimpers and kind of melts into a puddle when I only firm my grip. They look up at me with their head on their paws as I stand up, but I ignore them. I sigh as I glance down at the bag in my hands. I'd forgotten to tie it up. If the dog hadn't reminded me, I might have woken to a torn bag and no mountain cakes.

I take a mountain cake out and tuck it in my pocket as I walk. Across from where I'm sleeping. There, I untie the cord and weight the rock at the end carefully as I look up into the shadows, trying to pick out a good branch. I find one after a couple of moments and toss the rock over, then pull the end until the bag is swinging above my head and I can tie it to the next tree over.

Then I walk back to the dog where they had settled close to the banked fire. Their ears perk up as they watch me approach, and when I kneel down in front of them, their head comes up off their paws. "Here. Thank you for reminding my to put my bag up."

They glance between my face and the mountain cake several times, then they carefully lean forwards to take the cake from me with their teeth. I watch them for a long moment, leaning back to sit on my heels as they set the cake down between their paws, then start to nibble at it. Then I stand and return to my bedroll. I carefully cap my ink and smooth out the pages of my book before I put everything away. The torch gets upended and rolled in the dirt. I take off my shoes and get into my bedroll.)

Fact: The dog is there in the morning, and they follow me to the town. And maybe I'm just angry at Akane, but when I'm asked who they are, I raise my chin and say, "My companion." I haven't even known them for a full day, but dogs are supposed to be loyal and spirits are supposed to repay debts, and maybe a mountain cake's not much, but it's something. _I'm_ something. And maybe it isn't wise for humans to deal with spirits - we don't understand them and they don't understand us - but I'm angry and maybe a little lonely and maybe a little desperate. Maybe if I keep feeding them, they'll keep staying. I ask for a lesson from the hunters before I leave. I learn about little snare that I can set up to catch things overnight and how to skin an animal.

Fact: In the light of day, I can see the dog's ribs under their fur. They stay with me, though they refuse to take any of my mountain cakes after that first night, even when my snares don't catch anything. They sleep next to me at night. I sell or trade with the furs to the tanner and the bones to housewives when I get to town. The new source of income makes something that had been curled tight like fist relax. I don't feel like I'm cheating them out of their food anymore, or like I'm taking charity or like I'm holding their healing in exchange for food.

Fact: I'm writing in my notebook, two weeks after we met, when their ears perk up. Well, that's not unusual, but this time when they raise their head from their paws, they don't put it back down. I notice this after a couple moments, and I set my book to the side, making one of their ears flicker.

Memory: (Before I can ask what's wrong, I catch the staccato sound of sandals on the path that leads past the clearing. I watch with sharp eyes as little puffs of dust appear along the path, leading right up to the dog. The dog lets out a sharp bark, and the sandals tap in place for a minute before stopping. The dog lets out another bark and the sandals dart back to the path.

The dog turns to me, then settles their weight against my legs a bit more heavily. I blink at them. And . . . I knew that they were a spirit. They have to be - only spirits have animals that are _just_ one animal - like kitsune or tanuki. But this is really the first time I've seen them do anything overtly spirit-like.

Then I turn back to my work book because I did know they were a spirit and revelations can't last forever when you're trying to save the world, or at least revolutionize medicine.

I manage to get some more work done when another shift in the dog's weight against my leg catches my attention. Their ears are standing at attention, and their eyes are focused once more on something I can't see on the path. I follow their gaze for a moment - and a glint of light flutters out from behind the tree trunks. The little ball of fire dipps drunkenly before drifting forwards again, and it's quickly followed by another blue ball of fire that dances around it in circles.

More onibi follow the first two, following the path. Some drift by, holding themselves steady in an almost stately manner, while other bob and weave ache chase each other around like children. Then, as I'm setting my work book aside, heavy footsteps sound on the path. Through the trees, I catch brief glimpses of blue skin, illuminated by more onibi, before the oni steps into the clearing. He moves slowly, swinging his iron club next to his leg. His wild black hair shifts as he turns to look at me, and he laughs.

The low level growl the dog had been letting off since the footsteps started abruptly gets louder as the dog darts to their feet between us.

The oni's gaze shifts to the dog and he laughs again, before waving a hand and saying something. His voice is like a crackle of fire or the rumble of a mudslide, but the dog must have understood what they said because they throw themselves against my legs again, though the rumble of their chest against my shin doesn't go away until the oni has disappeared back into the trees.

And on the trail, more spirits walk. There are Kage Onna, their shadows impossibly dark against the silvery moonlight and the orange and blue of the onibi; Iso Onna And Nure Onna with their blurry legs and serpentine lower halves respectively, who are chatting; a Akaneme, its greasy hair covering its eyes as it sullenly licks an ancient, moldy sandal; and a pair of Bakezori running around their feet. A baku plods along, its elephant trunk hanging low; a huge Peng flies overhead; and a red-haired Shojo and a huge, moss covered Yeren walk and talk, the three-legged Sanzuwu on the Yeren's staff occasionally fluttering their wings for balance.

Betobeto, like the first one that tapped in front of the dog, are some of the most common spirits here, rushing up and down the path in sandals and boots and even bare feet, sending the onibi swirling in their wake.)

Fact: The dog remains between me and the spirits the whole time, sometimes growling or snapping at spirits that look our way for too long. I watch the spirits in awe for the most part, though I occasionally glance up at the sky to judge the time. I managed to avoid Akane for two weeks (not that it was hard), but if seeing her is the price for watching a spirit parade, I can hide in the dreamscape.

Fact: When I finally fall asleep, somewhere between the last onibi and the sunrise, Akane isn't there. She wasn't there all day, and I wake up late in the afternoon gasping, my heart pounding, and scared because - What if she was right? What if Akane was right? What if we really are drifting apart? I know - I know that she just said that so I'd stop worrying as she slept during the day - but what if she was right? What if dreaming apart for a while is all it took for her words to be real? I know that we still have the same mindscape because I'm not the one making the little houses I keep finding lying around, but what if we can't see each other when we dream anymore?

Fact: I bury my face in the dog's fur, and they make worried noises, twisting oddly to stick their nose in my neck as I cry. I sob, and I gasp, and my when my nose starts running, I pull back to bury my face in a handkerchief, and just because I'm angry with her doesn't mean I want to never see her again! By the time my tears stop, my face is red, my eyes hurt, my nose feels raw, and I feel almost empty of emotion. "I'm okay," I tell the dog, even though it's a little bit of a complete and total lie and we both know it.

Fact: We don't make it to the next town, but that's alright, I honestly hadn't wanted to. I try to go to sleep around sundown, I maybe cry a little more, and I lay sleepless for most of the night. Akane's not there, even though I wake up at noon. I cry a little more, I get up, I keep walking. I keep a hand on the dog's back, almost scared that they'll leave me too. We reach the town, and I follow the villagers as they lead me gently through the system. I am distracted, but no one mentions it until I'm seated across from the village leader and her husband.

Memory: (It takes me a long moment to realize that Izumi had spoken to me, and a moment more to tear myself out of my musings on her and the village.

(Izumi. It's a Fire name, or at least it would have been if it didn't mean fountain. And then there's the fact that Izumi is the leader of this village, and not her husband Kaito. Kaito's a Fire name too. It means sea or ocean.)

(The breeze smells like sea salt.)

I shake my head. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that. Could you repeat your question?"

"I was asking why you're so distracted," Izumi says.

The dog's head pushes up against my hand when I drop it, and I manage a thin smile. "I lost contact with someone I care about recently, and I'm worried about her."

"Ah, would you like to to not talk to you?" she asks, and I blink at her bluntness.

"No. No, I'll be fine.")

Fact: That night, when I finally get to sleep, Akane's there. I show up behind her, and for a long moment I just stare at her. Then she turns, and she sees me. She just stares at me for a moment too, before she leaps at me to throw her arms around my neck. She says my name over and over, crying on my shoulder. She's different. She's still all chin up, eyes dancing, always moving, but it's like in the two weeks we were apart, something important happened and some great weight was lifted off of her shoulders.

Fact: It's been two weeks, and I've missed her the whole time. I don't understand why I can't stand her touch right now. Her arms around me feel like the ropes the manager sometimes forced me to accept when he decided that I needed a handicap. Her words in my ears are the roaring of the crowd calling for blood, mine or my opponent's, they don't care. Her breath and tears on my neck feel like a rash of poison ivyoak. It takes everything I have to not pull away, to just stand in her embrace like an inanimate object for minutes as she talks.

Fact: She eventually trails off and draws back, and I don't know if it's because she ran out of things to say or if she'd finally realized I wasn't responding. We stand there for a while, her hands still on my shoulders, staring at each other. Akane searches my eyes like she's trying to find something, like she already found something she didn't expect and is trying to convince herself she made a mistake.

Memory: ("Are you alright?" she asks carefully.

I don't want to answer that. I nod, and I want the dog to be there. I want to bury my fingers in their fur. I want to bury my face in their fur and just let the rest of the world fall away.

"I found another airbender," she says tentatively as she sits, tugging my hand so I'll follow her example.

I take a deep breath. I paste on a smile. "That's awesome, Akane!"

She lights up. "Oh! And I found Nuan too!"

 _Of course you did. Of course you managed to do everything you wanted to when you cut all contact with me._ "How is he?"

Akane gives me a brilliant smile, and she tells me about Nuan, and the airbender she found, and the earthbender and the _spirits damned_ missing Fire Prince Zuko. It all sounds a lot like a spirit tale, with spirit debts and a tanuki and all.)

Fact: I'm already crying when I wake up, and I dig blindly through my pocket for the handkerchief that's been seeing a lot of use recently. Then I bury my face in the dog's fur and just try to block out the world. I don't even know why I'm crying! Wasn't I just panicking at the thought of never seeing Akane again? I got my wish; Akane's back, and she's happier than she was before!

Fact: Eventually though, the outside world intrudes. Izumi knock, and I go eat breakfast, and I make my rounds, and I talk to the local healer, and I stay another night. The dog trails behind my the whole time, sometimes playing with children while I'm asking after symptoms or helping someone transplant an herb they'll need a lot of from the nearby forest to their garden, sometimes following right at my heel as I walk to my next house or just sit and think.

Fact: I'm not ready to meet Akane again. I'm really not. But, I'm too tired to stay up all night again. I go to sleep. Akane is just as excited as she was last night. She talks about the airbender she met - Samir, his name is Samir - and about what she's learning from him - it matters which of the two Great Air Spirits you worship - and about Samir's earthbender friend Toph who is teaching Nuan how to bend better and seems to be good at explaining things, and -

Memory: ("Akane - Akane, stop. Please, stop."

"Are you alright?" Akane asks, reaching for me, and I flinch back. I stutter in place for a moment before I stand up, trying to make the movement look natural, trying to make it look like I was going to stand the entire time. It's a half-hearted effort at best. I don't believe it, and I don't think Akane does either as she follows me up.

"I'm fine." I turn and pace, trying to put some distance between us. "I've just - I've been feeling off lately, and I think I just need some time to adjust."

I'm even telling the truth. I was lonely when she was gone. I can't stand her now that she's back, but if we go back to dreaming separately, I'm sure I'll miss her just as bitterly as I did when she first left. I haven't had any time to think. The entire time she's been back, I've been in the village, helping, and the brief moments I had to myself weren't enough for me to think. I'm not complaining about helping people, but I haven't had time to think, and that's not good. I need to figure out why I feel this way.

"I just need a little time, alright? Just, can we just sit together quietly? Please.")

Fact: I don't manage to figure it all out that night, though I do eventually fall asleep within the dreamscape with my head on Akane's shoulder, but I do pin some things down. The worst part, when I think of it, is that Akane's actually trying to help me. When she hints that Toph might be able to to teach me something, she's not trying to imply that my earthbending - which I have worked on for years, which was good enough to keep me alive in the Earth Rumbles - isn't good enough. She's not disregarding my vow to _first do no harm_.

Fact: Akane was trying to help me learn more about earthbending, to help me learn more styles, to have fun with my element, like she's no doubt doing with Samir. The worst part is that she was still thinking of what I would want, even after she cut contact, and all I did was try to replace her.

Fact: Izumi must have noticed my mood when I woke up because no one tries to talk to me over breakfast. They talk around me, to each other, and even to the dog occasionally, but I am left to my silence. As I'm going out the door, with my medicine cabinet squarely on my back, Izumi stops me.

Memory: ("Be careful out there. We've gotten reports recently of Fire Nation soldiers roaming the countryside. Yaling, a couple of villages over says she heard that they're supposed to be guarding the caravans of goods that the Fire Nation is buying at Gaoling. Apparently there's been a group of bandits that have been stopping them from ah - _collecting taxes_ , but you should be careful."

I blink at her, then duck my head, hiding my eyes. "Thank you, but I'll be fine.")

Fact: I actually do end up coming across a patrol, and I do end up rescued by the bandits. The five bandits. Two earthbending, one firebending, two nonbending but moving in a suspiciously familiar way bandits. I recognize the one two of feet on the ground, the twist and shove of the throw I taught Akane. I recognize the three-four that sends some of the rocks flying, part of a longer dance, but still recognizable as the way I showed Nuan how to send pebbles flying.

Fact: The fight doesn't last long. Despite the fact that two of the fighters are suspiciously child-sized, the patrol is scattered in a minute, taking with them none of the money I didn't have, a couple suggestions for tea to help their headaches, and their unconscious comrades. Some of them send me worried glances, no doubt worried for the defenseless Fire citizen they left in the middle of a bunch of Earth bandits, but they leave me behind anyways. They have their own problems.

Fact: As the group approaches, there's a hesitation to Akane's and Nuan's steps that lets them drift to the back of the group as the group approaches me. The firebender takes a step forwards to stand in front of the rest of the group as they stop in front of me. The dog leans into my leg and I dig my fingers into its fur.

Memory: ("Are you alright?" There's genuine concern in his voice, but the words have the rhythm of routine.

I glance past him for a moment, and-

"Akane, what are you doing here?" Nuan asks.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" I demand.

"It looks like you're trying to get yourself killed! You're a Fire Healer in the middle of the Earth Kingdom, and you can't protect yourself anymore with that vow you took-"

"Well, what did you think she was going to do when you left? Just sit there demurely and wait for you to return? You were still around when Chao declared her a full doctor!" Akane exclaims.

For a moment, I wonder why she's reminding me about all this. Then I remember that we're not in the dreamscape anymore, that it's not just us anymore, and I slide to my knees to bury my face in the dogs fur.

Vaguely, I can hear Nuan asking Akane how she could know if if she'd never been off that island of hers, but I can't concentrate on that because Akane is here. It hadn't hit me while she was fighting, but she's here and she's real, and I'm not crazy. She's real and I'm not crazy. She's real and-

"Are you alright?" It's the firebender. His hand on my shoulder feels like a brand, and the dog's cold, wet nose against my neck is a vivid contrast. It's enough to break me out of the loop.

It's enough to break me out of the loop and send me right into another one because if Akane's real, this if the missing Fire Prince, and he's _asking if I'm okay_. The _prince_. The _Fire_ Prince. The _missing_ Fire Prince.

"Not really," I mumble into the dog's fur.)

Fact: It takes me a while to calm down, and it helps greatly when Akane notices me while shes half way through a sentence, and clams up, starling Nuan into glancing at me and stopping as well. It's easier to believe that I'm talking to the Fire Prince than it is to believe that Akane is _real_ and _here_. At least everyone around me agreed that he existed before he disappeared on the night of the Fire Lord's coronation. And besides that, it's easy to forget that Zuko's a prince with him sitting in the dirt in front of me in his travel worn clothes, talking about this one time he forgot the firebending steps and did one of the dances from his classical dance class instead.

Fact: When Zuko asks me what I want to do, Nuan starts to speak again, and this time Zuko shuts him up with a hard look. He asks again, this time giving me options. Options are good, because I don't know what I want. Do I want them to leave me alone so I can continue to act as a wandering doctor? I'm shaking my head frantically before he can finish the question, my arms tightening around the dog as they try to lick my face. Do I want them to help me find a village to stay in? The answer is no again, though I have to think about it. Do I want them to escort me back to Kaiyuan or Nishiyama? Those get strong nos. I'm not going back to Nishiyama, and there's no place for me in Kaiyuan, even though my parents are there. Finally, he asks if I want to come with them.

Fact: I want to go with them. I hadn't even considered it before he asked, but the moment he suggests it I want it. I want it and I want it and I want it and I want it so badly my bones creak as I clench my fists and I pull away from the dog so I don't squeeze them too tight. I want it so bad, it's like I've spent my entire life longing and I didn't know until now. It's not about Zuko. It's not about Samir and the hope he represents, it's not about Toph and what she can teach me. It's about being free with the two people I'm closest to. It's about being able to go where I wan with Akane and Nuan. And maybe I don't know them that well. I know one only though letters, and the other only through dreams where we're the only people in the world. But I want to try.

Fact: I want to try.

* * *

AN: Alright, here's the latest chapter, I hope you guys like it! Just to let you know, I've got a second series up for Step by Step over on AO3 now that has the original version of The Longest Day as well as bits and pieces of history and other spirit tales that I had on tumblr, as well as Scraps from various pieces that didn't make it into the final thing for various chapters.


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